THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


GEOFFREY  STRONG 


Handy  Volume    Editions 
of  Copyrighted   Fiction 

BY 

LAURA    E. 
RICHARDS 

& 

jf. 

MRS.    TREE     ......     $  .75 

GEOFFREY   STRONG      ,        .75 

FOR   TOMMY     ....       i.oo 
LOVE   AND   ROCKS   .     .       i.oo 

*J? 

Tall  idmos,  Individual  Cover 
Designs.     Illustrated. 

* 

DANA  ESTES  &  CO.,  PUBLISHERS 
ESTES  PRESS,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


He  paddled  on  in  silence. 


EOFFREY 
STRONG 


By 

Laura  E.  Richards 

Author  of 

"  Captain  January,"  «  Melody,"  "  Marie,"  etc. 


Boston 

Dana  Estes  &  Company 

Publishers 


Copyright, 
BY  DANA  ESTES  &  COMPANY 

All  rights  reserved 


Colonial 

Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  C.  H.  Simonds  &  Co. 
Boston,  Mass.,  U.  S.  A. 


to 

&fdjarti  Sttlltfran, 

KINDEST   OF   UNCLES,    FRIENDS,    AND   CRITICS, 

THIS  STOBY   IS   AFFECTIONATELY 

DEDICATED 


622183 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  EAGB 

I.  THE  TEMPLE  OP  VESTA     ...      11 

II.  THE  YOUNG  DOCTOK  ....      23 

III.  GARDEN  FANCIES        ....      42 

IV.  MOSTLY  PROFESSIONAL      ...      57 
V.  LETTER  -  WRITING  AND  HYSTERICS     .      75 

VI.  INFORMATION       .        .        .        •        •      91 

VII.  FESTIVITY   .     •  •       •'• .       .        .        .     104 

VIII.    REVELATION 120 

IX.     SIDE  LIGHTS 138 

X.  OVER  THE  WAY         .        .        .        .154 

XI.  BROKEN  BONES   .        »        .        .        .168 

XII.     CONVALESCENCE 186 

XIII.    RECOVERY 205 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

He  paddled  on  in  silence    .        .        .     Frontispiece 

The  young  doctor  glancing  around  saw  all  these 

things.        ........        37 

He  stood  looking  at  her,  his  hand  still  on  the  ham 
mock  rope 82 

"  There  he  comes,  full  chisel ! "  cried  Ithuriel  Butters      214 


GEOFFREY  STRONG 


CHAPTEE  I. 

THE   TEMPLE   OF   VESTA 

"  THAT'S  a  pleasant  looking  house,"  said  the 
young  doctor.  "  What's  the  matter  with  my 
getting  taken  in  there  ? " 

The  old  doctor  checked  his  horse,  and 
looked  at  the  house  with  a  smile. 

"  Nothing  in  the  world,"  he  said,  "  ex 
cept  the  small  fact  that  they  wouldn't  take 
you." 

"Why  not?"  asked  the  young  man,  viva 
ciously.     "  Too  rich  ?  too  proud  ?  too  young  ? 
too  old  ?  what's  the  matter  with  them  ? " 
11 


12  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

The  old  doctor  laughed  outright  this  time. 
"You  young  firebrand!"  he  said.  "Do  you 
think  you  are  going  to  take  this  village  by 
storm?  That  house  is  the  Temple  of  Vesta. 
It  is  inhabited  by  the  Vestal  Virgins,  who 
tend  the  sacred  fire,  and  do  other  things  be 
side.  You  might  as  well  ask  to  be  taken  into 
the  meeting-house  to  board." 

"  This  is  more  attractive  than  the  meeting 
house,"  said  the  young  doctor.  "  This  is  one 
of  the  most  attractive  houses  I  ever  saw." 

He  looked  at  it  earnestly,  and  as  they  drove 
along  the  elm-shaded  street,  he  turned  in  his 
seat  to  look  at  it  again. 

It  certainly  was  an  attractive  house.  Its 
front  of  bright  clean  red  brick  was  perhaps 
too  near  the  street;  but  the  garden,  whose 
tall  lilac  and  syringa  bushes  waved  over  the 
top  of  the  high  wall,  must,  he  thought,  run 
back  some  way,  and  from  the  west  windows 
there  must  be  a  glorious  sea-view. 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  VESTA  13 

The  house  looked  both  genteel  and  benevo 
lent.  The  white  stone  steps  and  window-sills 
and  the  white  fan  over  the  door  gave  a  certain 
effect  of  clean  linen  that  was  singularly  pleas 
ing.  The  young  doctor,  unlike  Doctor  John 
son,  had  a  passion  for  clean  linen.  The  knocker, 
too,  was  of  the  graceful  long  oval  shape  he 
liked,  and  burnished  to  the  last  point  of  per 
fection,  and  the  shining  windows  were  so  placed 
as  to  give  an  air  of  cheerful  interrogation  to 
the  whole. 

"  I  like  that  house ! "  said  the  young  doctor 
again.  "  Tell  me  about  the  people ! " 

Again  the  old  doctor  laughed.  "  I  tell  you 
they  are  the  Vestal  Virgins ! "  he  repeated. 
"There  are  two  of  them,  Miss  Phoabe  and 
Miss  Vesta  Blyth.  Miss  Phoebe  is  as  good 
as  gold,  but  something  of  a  man-hater.  She 
doesn't  think  much  of  the  sex  in  general,  but 
she  is  a  good  friend  of  mine,  and  she'll  be 
good  to  you  for  my  sake.  Miss  Vesta  "  —  the 


14  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

young  doctor,  who  was  observant,  noted  a 
slight  change  in  his  hearty  voice  —  "Vesta 
Blyth  is  a  saint." 

"  What  kind  of  saint  ?  invalid  ?  bedridden  ? 
blind  ? " 

"No,  no,  no!  saints  don't  all  have  to  be 
bedridden.  Vesta  is  a  —  you  might  call  her 
Saint  Placidia.  Her  life  has  been  shadowed. 
She  was  once  engaged  —  to  a  very  worthy 
young  man  —  thirty  years  ago.  The  day  be 
fore  the  wedding  he  was  drowned;  sailboat 
capsized  in  a  squall,  just  in  the  bay  here. 
Since  then  she  keeps  a  light  burning  in  the 
back  hall,  looking  over  the  water.  That's 
why  I  call  the  house  the  Temple  of  Vesta." 

"Day  and  night?" 

"  No,  no !  lights  it  at  sunset  every  evening 
regularly.  Sun  dips,  Vesta  lights  her  lamp. 
Pretty?  I  think  so." 

"  Affecting,  certainly ! "  said  the  young  doctor. 
"  And  she  has  mourned  her  lover  ever  since  ? " 


THE   TEMPLE  OF   VESTA  15 

The  old  doctor  gave  him  a  quaint  look. 
"People  don't  mourn  thirty  years,"  he  said, 
"unless  their  minds  are  diseased.  Women 
mourn  longer  than  men,  of  course,  but  ten 
years  would  be  a  long  limit,  even  for  a  woman. 
Memory,  of  course,  may  last  as  long  as  life 
—  sacred  and  tender  memory," —  his  voice 
dropped  a  little,  and  he  passed  his  hand  across 
his  forehead,  —  "  but  not  mourning.  Vesta  is 
a  little  pensive,  a  little  silent;  more  habit 
than  anything  else  now.  A  sweet  woman; 
the  sweetest  —  " 

The  old  doctor  seemed  to  forget  his  com 
panion,  and  nicked  the  old  brown  horse  pen 
sively,  as  they  jogged  along,  saying  no  more. 

The  young  doctor  waited  a  little  before  he 
put  his  next  question. 

"  The  two  ladies  live  alone  always  ?  " 

"Yes  —  no!"  said  the  old  doctor,  coming 
out  of  his  reverie.  "There's  Diploma  Grotty, 
help,  tyrant,  governor-in-chief  of  the  kitchen. 


16  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

Now  and  then  she  thinks  they'd  better  have 
a  visitor,  and  tells  them  so;  but  not  very 
often,  it  upsets  her  kitchen.  But  here  we  are 
at  the  parsonage,  and  I'll  take  you  in." 

The  young  doctor  made  his  visit  at  the 
parsonage  dutifully  and  carefully.  He  meant 
to  make  a  good  impression  wherever  he  went. 
It  was  no  such  easy  matter  to  take  the  place 
of  the  old  doctor,  who,  after  a  lifetime  of 
faithful  and  loving  work,  had  been  ordered 
off  for  a  year's  rest  and  travel ;  but  the  young 
doctor  had  plenty  of  courage,  and  meant  to 
do  his  best.  He  answered  evasively  the  in 
quiry  of  the  minister's  wife  as  to  where  he 
meant  to  board;  and  though  he  noted  down 
carefully  the  addresses  she  gave  him  of  nice 
motherly  women  who  would  keep  his  things 
in  order,  and  have  an  eye  to  him  in  case 
he  should  be  ailing,  he  did  not  intend  to 
trouble  these  good  ladies  if  he  could  help 
himself. 


THE   TEMPLE   OF  VESTA  17 

"I  want  to  live  in  that  brick  house!"  he 
said  to  himself.  "  I'll  have  a  try  for  it,  any 
how.  The  old  ladies  can't  be  insulted  by  my 
telling  them  they  have  the  best  house  in  the 
village." 

After  dinner  he  went  for  a  walk,  and 
strolled  along  the  pleasant  shady  street. 
There  were  many  good  houses,  for  Elmerton 
was  an  old  village.  Vessels  had  come  into 
her  harbour  in  bygone  days,  and  substantial 
merchant  captains  had  built  the  comfortable, 
roomy  mansions  which  stretched  their  ample 
fronts  under  the  drooping  elms,  while  their 
back  windows  looked  out  over  the  sea, 
breaking  at  the  very  foot  of  their  garden 
walls.  But  there  was  no  house  that  com 
pared,  in  the  young  doctor's  mind,  with  the 
Temple  of  Vesta.  He  was  walking  slowly 
past  it,  admiring  the  delicate  tracery  on  the 
white  window-sills,  when  the  door  opened, 
and  a  lady  came  out.  The  young  doctor 


18  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

observed  her  as  she  came  down  the  steps;  it 
was  his  habit  to  observe  everything.  The 
lady  was  past  sixty,  tall  and  erect,  and 
walked  stiffly. 

"  Bheumatic ! "  said  the  young  doctor,  and 
ran  over  in  his  mind  certain  remedies  which 
he  had  found  effective  in  rheumatism. 

She  was  dressed  in  sober  gray  silk,  made 
in  the  fashion  of  thirty  years  before,  and 
carried  an  ancient  parasol  with  a  deep  silk 
fringe.  As  she  reached  the  sidewalk  she 
dropped  her  handkerchief.  Standing  still  a 
moment,  she  regarded  it  with  grave  dis 
pleasure,  then  tried  to  take  it  up  on  the  point 
of  her  parasol.  In  an  instant  the  young  doc 
tor  had  crossed  the  street,  picked  up  the 
handkerchief,  and  offered  it  to  her  with  a 
bow  and  a  pleasant  smile. 

"  I  thank  you,  sir ! "  said  Miss  Phoebe 
Blyth.  "You  are  extremely  obliging." 

"  Don't  mention  it,  please ! "  said  the  young 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  VESTA  19 

doctor.  "It  was  a  pleasure.  Have  I  the 
honour  of  speaking  to  Miss  Blyth  ?  I  am 
Doctor  Strong.  Doctor  Stedman  may  have 
spoken  to  you  of  me." 

"  He  has  indeed  done  so ! "  said  Miss 
Phoebe;  and  she  held  out  her  silk -gloved 
hand  with  dignified  cordiality.  "  I  am  glad 
to  make  your  acquaintance,  sir.  I  shall  hope 
to  have  the  pleasure  of  welcoming  you  at  my 
house  at  an  early  date." 

"  Thank  you !  I  shall  he  most  happy. 
May  I  walk  along  with  you,,  as  we  seem  to 
be  going  the  same  way  ?  I  have  been  admir 
ing  your  house  so  very  much,  Miss  Blyth. 
It  is  the  finest  specimen  of  its  kind  I  have 
ever  seen.  How  fine  that  tracery  is  over  the 
windows;  and  how  seldom  you  see  a  fan  so 
graceful  as  that !  Should  you  object  to  my 
making  a  sketch  of  it  some  day?  I'm  very 
much  interested  in  Colonial  houses." 

A  faint  red  crept  into  Miss  Phoebe's  cheek  • 


20  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

it  was  one  of  her  dreams  to  have  an  oil- 
painting  of  her  house.  The  young  doctor 
had  found  a  joint  in  her  harness. 

"  I  should  be  indeed  pleased  —  "  she  began ; 
and,  being  slightly  fluttered,  she  dropped  her 
handkerchief  again,  and  again  the  young  doc 
tor  picked  it  up  and  handed  it  to  her. 

"  I  am  distressed  ! "  said  Miss  Phoebe.  "  I 
am  —  somewhat  hampered  by  rheumatism, 
Doctor  Strong.  It  is  not  uncommon  in  per 
sons  of  middle  age." 

"  No,  indeed !  My  mother  —  I  mean  my 
aunt  —  younger  sister  of  my  mother's  —  used 
to  suffer  terribly  with  rheumatism.  I  was 
fortunate  enough  to  be  able  to  relieve  her  a 
good  deal.  If  you  would  like  to  try  the 
prescription,  Miss  Blyth,  it  is  entirely  at 
your  service.  Not  professionally,  please  un 
derstand,  not  professionally;  a  mere  neigh 
bourly  attention.  I  hope  we  shall  be 
neighbours.  Don't  mention  it,  please  don't, 


TEE  TEMPLE  OF  VESTA  21 

because  I  shall  be  so  glad,  you  know.  Be 
sides  —  you  have  a  little  look  of  my  —  aunt ; 
she  has  very  regular  features." 
v  Miss  Phoebe  thanked  him  with  a  rather 
tremulous  dignity ;  he  was  a  most  courteous 
and  attractive  young  man,  but  so  impetuous, 
that  she  felt  a  disturbance  of  her  cool  blood. 
It  was  singular,  though,  how  little  dear  Doctor 
Stedman  had  been  able  to  do  for  her  rheu 
matism,  for  as  many  years  as  he  had  been 
attending  her.  Perhaps  newer  methods  —  it 
must  be  confessed  that  Doctor  Stedman  was 
growing  old. 

"Where  do  you  intend  to  lodge,  Doctor 
Strong  ? "  she  asked,  by  way  of  changing  the 
subject  gracefully. 

The  young  doctor  did  not  know,  was  quite 
at  a  loss. 

"There  is  only  one  house  that  I  want  to 
lodge  in!"  he  said,  and  his  bold  face  had 
grown  suddenly  timid,  like  a  schoolboy's. 


22  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

"That  is,  of  course  there  are  plenty  of  good 
houses  in  the  village,  Miss  Blyth,  excellent 
houses,  and  excellent  people  in  them,  I  have 
no  doubt  ;  but  —  well,  there  is  only  one 
house  for  me.  You  know  what  house  I 
mean,  Miss  Blyth,  because  you  know  how 
one  can  feel  about  a  really  fine  house.  The 
moment  I  saw  it  I  said,  'That  is  the  house 
for  me ! '  But  Doctor  Stedman  said  there 
was  no  possible  chance  of  my  getting  taken 
in  there." 

"I  really  do  not  know  how  Doctor  Sted 
man  should  speak  with  authority  on  the 
subject!"  said  Miss  Phoebe  Blyth. 

Young  doctor !  young  doctor !  is  this  the 
way  you  are  going  to  comport  yourself  in 
the  village  of  Elmerton?  If  so,  there  will 
be  flutterings  indeed  in  the  dove-cotes.  Be 
fore  night  the  whole  village  knew  that  the 
young  doctor  was  going  to  board  with  the 
Blyth  girls'. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE   YOUNG  DOCTOE 

"AND  he  certainly  is  a  remarkable  young 
man ! "  said  Miss  Phoebe  Blyth.  "  Is  he  not, 
Sister  Vesta  ? " 

Miss  Vesta  came  out  of  her  reverie;  not 
with  a  start,  —  she  never  started,  —  but  with 
the  quiet  awakening,  like  that  of  a  baby  in 
the  morning,  that  was  peculiar  to  her. 

"  Yes !  oh,  yes  ! "  she  said.  "  I  consider  him 
so.  I  think  his  coming  providential." 

"  How  so  ? "  asked  the  visitor.  There  was 
a  slight  acidity  in  her  tone,  for  Mrs.  Weight 
was  one  of  the  motherly  persons  mentioned 
by  the  minister's  wife,  and  had  looked  forward 
to  caring  for  the  young  doctor  herself.  With 

23 


24  GEOFFREY  STEONG 

her  four  children,  all  croupy,  it  would  have 
been  convenient  to  have  a  physician  in  the 
house,  and  as  the  wife  of  the  senior  deacon, 
what  could  be  more  proper  ? 

"I  must  say  he  doesn't  look  remarkable," 
she  added;  "but  the  light-complected  seldom 
do,  to  my  mind." 

"  It  is  years,"  said  Miss  Vesta,  "  since  Sister 
Phoebe  has  suffered  so  little  with  her  rheuma 
tism.  Doctor  Strong  understands  her  con 
stitution  as  no  one  else  ever  has  done,  not 
even  dear  Doctor  Stedman.  Sister  Phosbe  can 
stoop  down  now  like  a  girl ;  can't  you,  Sister 
Phosbe  ?  It  is  a  long  time  since  she  has  been 
able  to  stoop  down." 

Miss  Vesta's  soft  white  face  glowed  with 
pleasure;  it  was  a  gentle  glow,  like  that  at 
the  heart  of  certain  white  roses. 

Mrs.  Weight  showed  little  enthusiasm. 

"  I  never  have  rheumatism ! "  she  said, 
briefly.  "I've  always  wore  gold  beads.  If 


THE   YOUNG  DOCTOR  25 

you'd  have  tried  gold  beads,  Phoebe,  or  a  few 
raisins  in  your  pocket,  it's  my  belief  you'd 
never  have  had  all  this  trouble." 

It  was  now  Miss  Phoebe's  turn  to  colour, 
but  hers  was  the  hard  red  of  a  winter  pear. 

"  I  am  not  superstitious,  Anna  Maria,"  she 
said.  "Doctor  Strong  considers  gold  beads 
for  rheumatism  absurd,  and  I  fully  agree  with 
him.  As  for  raisins  in  the  pocket,  that  is 
nonsense,  of  course." 

"It's  best  to  be  sure  of  your  facts  before 
reflecting  upon  other  folks'  statements ! "  said 
Mrs.  Weight,  with  dignity.  "  I  know  whereof 
I  speak,  Phoebe.  Father  Weight  is  ninety 
years  old  this  very  month,  and  he  has  car 
ried  raisins  for  forty  years,  and  never  had  a 
twinge  of  rheumatism  in  all  that  time.  The 
same  raisins,  too ;  they  have  hardened  into 
stone,  as  you  may  say,  with  what  they  have 
absorbed.  I  don't  need  to  see  things  clearer 
than  that." 


26  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

"  H'm ! "  said  Miss  Phoebe,  with  the  suspicion 
of  a  sniff.  "  Did  he  ever  have  it  before  ? " 

"I  wasn't  acquainted  with  him  before," 
said  Mrs.  Weight,  stiffly. 

There  was  a  pause;  then  the  visitor  went 
on,  dropping  her  voice  with  a  certain  mystery. 
"You  may  talk  of  superstition,  Phoebe,  but 
I  must  say  I'd  sooner  be  what  some  folks 
call  superstitious  than  have  no  belief  at 
all.  I  don't  wish  to  reflect  upon  any  per 
son,  but  I  must  say  that,  in  my  opinion, 
Doctor  Strong  is  little  better  than  an  infi 
del.  To  see  a  perishing  human  creature  set 
himself  up  against  the  Ordering  of  Providence 
is  a  thing  I  am  sorry  to  meet  with  in  this 
parish." 

"Has  Doctor  Strong  set  himself  against 
Providence?"  asked  Miss  Phoebe,  her  back 
very  rigid,  her  knitting-needles  pointed  in 
stern  interrogation. 

"You    shall    judge   for   yourselves,   girls!" 


THE   YOUNG  DOCTOR  27 

Mrs.  Weight  spoke  with  unction.  "  At  the 
same  time,  I  wish  it  to  be  understood  that 
what  I  say  is  for  this  room  only;  I  am  not 
one  to  spread  abroad.  Well!  it  has  never 
been  doubted,  to  my  knowledge,  that  the  lower 
animals  are  permitted  to  absorb  diseases  from 
children,  who  have  immortal  souls  to  save. 
Even  Doctor  Stedman,  who  is  advanced  enough 
in  all  conscience,  never  denied  that  in  m,y 
hearing.  Well!  Mrs.  Ezra  Sloper  —  I  don't 
know  whether  you  are  acquainted  with  her, 
girls;  I  have  my  butter  of  her.  She  lives 
out  on  the  Saugo  Eoad ;  a  most  respectable 
woman.  She  has  a  child  with  a  hump  back ; 
fell  when  it  was  a  baby,  and  never  got  over  it. 
I  found  she  wasn't  doing  anything  for  the 
child,  —  nice  little  boy,  four  years  old ;  hump 
growing  right  out  of  his  shoulders.  I  said  to 
her, '  Susan,'  I  said, '  you  want  to  get  a  little 
dog,  and  let  it  sleep  with  that  child,  and 
let  the  child  play  with  it  all  he  can,  and  get 


28  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

real  attached  to  it.     If  anything  will  cure  the 
child,  that  will.' 

"  She  said,  <  Mis'  Weight,'  she  said,  <  I'll  do 
it!'  and  she  did.  She  thanked  me,  too,  as 
grateful  as  ever  I  was  thanked.  Well,  girls," 

—  Mrs.  Weight  leaned  forward,  her  hands  on 
her  knees,  and  spoke  slowly  and  impressively, 

—  "as  true  as  I  sit  here,  in  three    months' 
time  that  dog  was  humpbacked,  and  growing 
more  so  every  day." 

She  paused,  drawing  a  long  breath  of  tri 
umph,  and  looked  from  one  to  the  other  of 
her  hearers. 

"Well!"  said  Miss  Phoabe,  dryly.  "Did 
the  child  get  well  ?  And  where  does  Doctor 
Strong's  infidelity  come  in?" 

"  The  child  would  have  got  well,"  said  Mrs. 
Weight,  with  tragic  emphasis.  "The  child 
might  be  well,  or  near  it,  this  living  day  of 
time,  if  the  Ordering  of  Providence  had  not 
been  interfered  with.  The  child  had  a  spell 


THE   YOUNG  DOCTOR  29 

of  stomach  trouble,  and  Doctor  Strong  was 
sent  for.  He  ordered  the  dog  out  of  the 
house ;  said  it  had  fleas,  and  sore  eyes,  and  I 
don't  know  what.  Susan  Sloper  is  a  weak 
woman,  and  she  gave  in,  and  that  child  goes 
humpbacked  to  its  grave.  I  hope  Doctor 
Strong  is  prepared  to  answer  for  it  at  the  Last 
Day." 

Miss  Phoebe  laid  down  her  knitting-needles ; 
but  before  she  could  reply,  Doctor  Strong 
himself  came  in,  bringing  the  breeze  with  him. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Weight  ? "  he  said, 
heartily.  "  How  is  Billy  ?  croupy  again  ? 
Does  he  go  out  every  day?  Do"  you  keep 
his  window  open  at  night,  and  give  him  a 
cold  bath  every  morning?  Fresh  air  and 
bathing  are  absolutely  necessary,  you  know, 
with  that  tendency.  Have  you  taken  off  all 
that  load  of  flannel  ? " 

Mrs.  Weight  muttered  something  about 
supper-time,  and  fled  before  the  questioner. 


30  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

The  young  doctor  turned  to  his  hostess,  with 
the  quick,  merry  smile  he  had.  "  I  had  to 
send  her  away ! "  he  said.  "  You  are  flushed, 
Miss  Blyth,  and  Miss  Vesta  is  tired.  Yes, 
you  are,  Miss  Yesta ;  what  is  the  use  of  deny 
ing  it  ? " 

He  placed  a  cushion  behind  Miss  Yesta, 
and  she  nestled  against  it  with  a  little  com 
fortable  sigh.  She  looked  at  the  young  doctor 
kindly,  and  he  returned  the  look  with  one  of 
frank  affection. 

"Your  mother  must  have  had  a  sight  of 
comfort  with  you,"  said  Miss  Yesta.  "You 
are  a  home  boy,  any  one  can  see  that." 

"I  know  when  I  am  well  off!"  said  the 
young  doctor. 

Geoffrey  Strong  certainly  was  well  off.  In 
some  singular  way,  which  no  one  professed 
wholly  to  understand,  he  had  won  the  confi 
dence  of  both  the  "Blyth  girls,"  who  were 
usually  considered  the  most  exclusive  and 


THE   YOUNG  DOCTOR  31 

"  stand-offish  "  people  in  Elmerton.  He  made 
no  secret  of  being  in  love  with  Miss  Vesta. 
He  declared  that  no  one  could  see  her  without 
being  in  love  with  her.  "  Because  you  are  so 
lovely,  you  know!"  he  said  to  her  half  a 
dozen  times  a  day.  The  remark  never  failed 
to  call  up  a  soft  blush,  and  a  gentle  "  Don't, 
I  pray  you,  my  dear  young  friend ;  you  shock 
me!" 

"  But  I  like  to  shock  you,"  the  young  doctor 
would  reply.  "  You  look  prettiest  when  you 
are  shocked."  And  then  Miss  Vesta  would 
shake  her  pretty  white  curls  (she  was  not 
more  than  sixty,  but  her  hair  had  been  gray 
since  her  youth),  and  say  that  if  he  went  on 
so  she  must  really  call  Sister  Phoebe;  and 
Master  Geoffrey  would  go  off  laughing. 

He  did  not  make  love  to  Miss  Phoebe,  but 
was  none  the  less  intimate  with  her  in  frank 
comradeship.  Eheumatism  was  their  first 
bond.  Doctor  Strong  meant  to  make  rather 


32  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

a  specialty  of  rheumatism  and  kindred  com 
plaints,  and  studied  Miss  Phoebe's  case  with 
ardour.  Every  new  symptom  was  received 
with  kindling  eye  and  eager  questionings.  It 
was  worst  in  her  back  this  morning  ?  So  t 
now  how  would  she  describe  the  pain  ?  Was 
it  acute,  darting,  piercing  ?  No  ?  Dull,  then  ! 
Would  she  call  it  grinding,  boring,  pressing? 
Ah !  that  was  most  interesting.  And  for  other 
symptoms  —  yes !  yes  !  that  naturally  fol 
lowed;  he  should  have  expected  that. 

"  In  fact,  Miss  Blyth,  you  really  are  a  mag 
nificent  case ! "  and  the  young  doctor  glowed 
with  enthusiasm.  (This  was  when  he  first 
came  to  live  in  the  Temple  of  Vesta.)  "I 
mean  to  relieve  your  suffering ;  I'll  put  every 
inch  there  is  of  me  into  it.  But,  meantime, 
there  ought  to  be  some  consolation  in  the 
knowledge  that  you  are  a  most  beautiful  and 
interesting  case." 

What  woman,  —  I  will  go  farther,  —  what 


THE   YOUNG  DOCTOR  33 

human  being  could  withstand  this  ?  Miss 
Phoebe  was  a  firm  woman,  but  she  was  clay 
in  the  hands  of  the  young  doctor,  —  the  more 
so  that  he  certainly  did  help  her  rheumatism 
wonderfully. 

More  than  this,  their  views  ran  together  in 
other  directions.  Both  disapproved  of  matri 
mony,  not  in  the  abstract,  but  in  the  concrete 
and  personal  view.  They  had  long  talks  to 
gether  on  the  subject,  after  Miss  Vesta  had 
gone  to  bed,  sitting  in  the  quaint  parlour, 
which  both  considered  the  pleasantest  room 
in  the  world.  The  young  doctor,  tongs  in 
hand  (he  was  allowed  to  pick  up  the  brands 
and  to  poke  the  fire,  a  fire  only  less  sacred 
than  that  of  Miss  Vesta's  lamp),  would  hold 
forth  at  length,  to  the  great  edification  of  Miss 
Phoebe,  as  she  sat  by  her  little  work-table 
knitting  complacently. 

"It's  all  right  for  most  men,"  he  would 
say.  "It  steadies  them,  and  does  them  good 


34  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

in  a  hundred  ways.  Oh,  yes,  I  approve  highly 
of  marriage,  as  I  am  sure  you  do,  Miss  Blyth ; 
but  not  for  a  physician,  at  least  a  young 
physician.  A  young  physician  must  be  able 
to  give  his  whole  thought,  his  whole  being,  so 
to  speak,  to  his  profession.  There's  too  much 
of  it  for  him  to  divide  himself  up.  Why,  take 
a  single  specialty ;  take  rheumatism.  If  I  gave 
my  lifetime,  or  twenty  lifetimes,  to  the  study 
of  that  one  malady,  I  should  not  begin  to 
learn  the  A  B  C  of  it." 

"  One  learns  a  good  deal  when  one  has  it ! " 
said  poor  Miss  Phoebe. 

"  Yes,  of  course,  and  I  am  speaking  the 
simple  truth  when  I  say  that  I  wish  I  could 
have  it  for  you,  Miss  Blyth.  I  should  have 
—  it  would  be  most  instructive,  most  illuminat* 
ing.  Some  day  we  shall  have  all  that  regu 
lated,  and  medical  students  will  go  through 
courses  of  disease  as  well  as  of  study.  I  look 
forward  to  that,  though  it  will  hardly  come 


THE   YOUNG  DOCTOR  35 

in  my  time.  Kheumatism  and  kindred  diseases, 
say  two  terms ;  fever,  two  terms  —  no,  three, 
for  you  would  want  to  take  in  yellow  and 
typhus,  as  well  as  ordinary  typhoid.  Cholera 
—  well,  of  course  there  would  be  difficulties, 
but  you  see  the  principle.  Well,  but  we  were 
talking  about  marriage.  Now,  you  see,  with 
all  these  new  worlds  opening  before  him,  the 
physician  cannot  possibly  be  thinking  of  falling 
in  love  —  " 

Miss  Phosbe  blinked,  and  coloured  slightly. 
She  sometimes  wished  Doctor  Strong  would 
not  use  such  forcible  language. 

"  Of  falling  in  love  and  marrying.  In  com 
mon  justice  to  his  wife,  he  has  no  business  to 
marry  her ;  I  mean,  of  course,  the  person  who 
might  be  his  wife.  Up  all  night,  driving 
about  the  country  all  day,  —  no  woman 
ought  to  be  asked  to  share  such  a  life.  In 
fact,  the  one  reason  that  might  justify  a  physi 
cian  in  marrying  —  and  I  admit  it  might  be  a 


36  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

powerful  one  —  would  be  where  it  afforded 
special  facilities  for  the  study  of  disease.  An 
obscure  and  complicated  case  of  neurasthenia, 
now,  —  but  these  things  are  hardly  practicable ; 
besides,  a  man  would  have  to  be  a  Mormon. 
No,  no,  let  lawyers  marry  young ;  business  men, 
parsons,  —  especially  parsons,  because  they  need 
filling  out  as  a  rule,  —  but  not  doctors." 

The  young  doctor  paused,  and  gave  his 
whole  vigorous  mind  to  the  fire  for  a  moment. 
It  was  in  a  precarious  condition,  and  the 
brands  had  to  be  built  up  in  careful  and  pre 
cise  fashion,  with  red  coals  tucked  in  neatly 
here  and  there.  Then  he  took  the  bellows  in 
hand,  and  blew  steadily  and  critically,  with 
keen  eyes  bent  on  the  smouldering  brands. 
A  few  seconds  of  breathless  waiting,  and  a 
jet  of  yellow  flame  sprang  up,  faltered,  died 
out,  sprang  up  again,  and  crept  flickering  in 
and  out  among  the  brands  powdered  white 
with  ashes.  Now  it  was  a  strong,  leaping 


The  youug  doctor  glancing  around  saw  all  these  things. 


THE   YOUNG  DOCTOR  37 

flame,  and  all  the  room  shone  out  in  its  light ; 
the  ancient  Turkey  carpet,  with  its  soft  blend 
ing  of  every  colour  into  a  harmonious  no- 
colour  ;  the  quaint  portraits,  like  court-cards 
in  tarnished  gilt  frames  ;  the  teak- wood  chairs 
and  sofas,  with  their  delicate  spindle-legs,  and 
backs  inlaid  with  sandalwood;  Miss  Phoebe's 
work-table,  with  its  bag  of  faded  crimson 
damask,  and  Miss  Phosbe  herself,  pleasant  to 
look  upon  in  her  dove-coloured  cashmere 
gown,  with  her  kerchief  of  soft  net. 

The  young  doctor,  glancing  around,  saw  all 
these  things  in  the  light  of  his  newly-resus 
citated  fire ;  and  seeing,  gave  a  little  sigh  of 
comfort,  and  laying  down  the  bellows,  leaned 
back  in  his  chair  again. 

"You  were  going  to  say  something,  Miss 
Blyth  ? "  he  said,  in  his  eager  way.  "  Please 
go  on !  I  had  to  save  the  fire,  don't  you 
know  ?  it  was  on  its  last  legs  —  coals,  I  should 
say.  Please  go  on,  won't  you  ? " 


38  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

Miss  Phoebe  coughed.  She  had  been 
brought  up  not  to  use  the  word  "  leg  "  freely ; 
"limb"  had  been  considered  more  elegant, 
as  well  as  —  but  medical  men,  no  doubt,  took 
a  broader  view  of  these  matters. 

"I  was  merely  about  to  remark,"  she  said, 
with  dignity,  "  that  in  many  ways  my  views 
on  this  subject  coincide  with  yours,  Doctor 
Strong.  I  have  the  highest  respect  for  —  a  — > 
matrimony ;  it  is  a  holy  estate,  and  the  daugh 
ter  of  my  honoured  parents  could  ill  afford  to 
think  lightly  of  it ;  yet  in  a  great  many  cases 
I  own  it  appears  to  me  a  sad  waste  of  time 
and  energy.  I  have  noted  in  my  reading,  both 
secular  and  religious,  that  though  the  married 
state  is  called  holy,  the  term  'blessed'  is  re 
served  for  a  single  life.  Women  of  clinging 
nature,  or  those  with  few  interests,  doubtless 
do  well  to  marry,  a  suitable  partner  being  pro 
vided  ;  but  for  a  person  with  the  full  use  of 
her  faculties,  and  with  rational  occupation 


THE  YOUNG  DOCTOR  39 

more  than  sufficient  to  fill  her  time,  I  admit  I 
am  unable  'to  conceive  the  attraction  of  it. 
I  speak  for  myself ;  my  sister  Vesta  has  other 
views.  My  sister  Vesta  had  a  disappointment 
in  early  life.  From  my  point  of  view,  she 
would  have  been  far  better  off  without  the 
unfortunate  attachment  which  —  though  to  a 
very  worthy  person  —  terminated  so  sadly. 
But  my  sister  is  not  of  my  opinion.  She  has 
a  clinging,  affectionate  nature,  my  sister 
Vesta." 

"  She's  an  angel ! "  said  Doctor  Strong. 

"You  are  right,  my  friend,  you  are  very 
right ! "  said  Miss  Phoabe ;  and  her  cap  strings 
trembled  with  affection.  "  There  is  an  angelic 
quality,  surely,  in  my  sister  Vesta.  She  might 
have  been  happy  —  I  trust  she  would  have 
been  —  if  Providence  had  been  pleased  to  call 
her  to  the  married  estate.  But  for  me,  Doctor 
Strong,  no !  I  have  always  said,  and  I  shall 
always  say,  while  I  have  the  use  of  my  facul- 


40  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

ties —  no!  I  thank  you  for  the  honour  you 
do  me ;  I  appreciate  the  sentiments  to  which 
you  have  given  utterance ;  but  I  can  never  be 
yours." 

To  any  third  party  who  had  seen  Miss 
Phoebe,  drawn  up  erect  in  her  chair,  uttering 
these  words  with  chiselled  majesty,  and  Doc 
tor  Strong,  bellows  in  hand,  his  bright  eyes 
fixed  upon  her,  receiving  them  with  kindling 
attention,  it  might  certainly  have  appeared  as 
if  he  had  been  making  her  an  offer  of  marriage ; 
but  the  thought  would  have  been  momentary, 
for  when  the  good  lady  ceased,  .the  young 
doctor  chimed  in  heartily : 

"  Quite  right !  quite  right,  I'm  sure,  Miss 
Blyth.  He'd  be  absurd  to  think  of  such  a 
thing,  you  know;  the  idea  of  your  wasting 
your  time!  That's  what  I  say  to  fellows; 
'How  can  you  waste  your  time,  when  you'll 
be  dead  before  you  know  it  anyhow,  and  not 
have  had  time  to  look  about  you,  much  less 


THE  YOUNG  DOCTOB  41 

learn  anything?'  No,  sir,  —  I  beg  your  par 
don,  ma'am  !  A  single  life  for  me.  My  own 
time,  my  own  will,  and  my  own  way ! " 

Miss  Phoebe  looked  at  him  with  very  kind 
eyes. 

"  Doctor  Strong,"  she  said,  "  I  think  —  it  is 
no  light  thing  for  me  to  say,  holding  the  con 
victions  I  do  —  but  I  think  you  are  worthy 
of  single  blessedness ! " 


CHAPTER   III. 

GARDEN   FANCIES 

Miss  VESTA  was  trimming  her  lamp.  That 
meant,  in  this  early  summer  season,  that  it 
was  after  seven  o'clock.  The  little  lady  stood 
at  the  window  in  the  upper  hall.  It  was  a 
broad  window,  with  a  low  round  arch,  looking 
out  on  the  garden  and  the  sea  beyond  it.  A 
bracket  was  fastened  to  the  sill,  and  on  this 
bracket  stood  the  lamp  that  Miss  Vesta  was 
trimming.  (It  was  against  all  fitness,  as 
Miss  Phosbe  said,  that  a  lamp  should  be 
trimmed  at  this  hour.  Every  other  lamp  in 
the  house  was  in  perfect  order  by  njne 
o'clock  in  the  morning;  but  it  was  Miss 
Vesta's  fancy  to  trim  this  lamp  in  th§ 

42 


GAEDEN  FANCIES  43 

evening,  and  Miss  Phoebe  made  a  point  of 
indulging  her  sister's  fancies  when  she  con 
scientiously  could.) 

It  was  a  brass  lamp  of  quaint  pattern,  and 
the  brass  shone  so  that  several  Miss  Vestas, 
with  faces  curiously  distorted,  looked  out  at 
the  real  one,  as  she  daintily  brushed  off  the 
burnt  wicking,  and,  after  filling  and  lighting 
the  lamp,  replaced  the  brilliantly  polished 
chimney.  She  watched  the  flame  as  it  crept 
along  the  wick ;  then,  when  it  burned  steady 
and  clear,  she  folded  her  hands  with  a  little 
contented  gesture,  and  looked  out  of  the 
window. 

The  sun  had  set.  The  sea  on  which  Miss 
Vesta  looked  was  a  water  of  gold,  shimmering 
here  and  there  into  opal ;  only  where  it  broke 
on  the  shingle  at  the  garden  foot,  the  water 
was  its  usual  colour  of  a  chrysoprase,  with  a 
rim  of  ivory  where  it  touched  the  shore.  The 
window  was  open,  and  a  light  breeze  blew  from 


44  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

the  water ;  blew  across  the  garden,  and  brought 
with  it  scents  of  lilac,  syringa,  and  June  roses. 
It  was  a  pleasant  hour,  and  Miss  Vesta  was 
well  content.  She  liked  even  better  the  later 
evening,  when  the  glow  would  fade  from  the 
west,  and  her  lamp  would  shed  its  own  path 
of  gold  across  the  water ;  but  this  was  pleasant 
enough. 

"It  is  a  very  sightly  evening!"  said  Miss 
Vesta,  in  the  soft  half-voice  in  which  she 
often  talked  to  herself.  "Good  Lord,  I  be 
seech  thee,  protect  all  souls  at  sea  this  night ; 
for  Jesus  Christ's  sake ;  amen  ! " 

This  was  the  prayer  that  Miss  Vesta  had 
offered  every  evening  for  thirty  years.  As 
often  as  she  repeated  it,  the  sea  before  her 
eyes  changed,  and  she  saw  a  stretch  of  black 
tossing  water,  with  foam-crests  that  the  light 
ning  turned  to  pale  fire;  a  sail  drove  across 
her  window,  dipped,  and  disappeared.  Miss 
Vesta  closed  her  eyes. 


GARDEN  FANCIES  45 

But  as  the  old  doctor  said,  people  do  not 
mourn  for  thirty  years ;  when  she  opened  her 
eyes,  they  were  grave,  but  serene.  "It  is  a 
very  sightly  evening ! "  she  repeated.  She 
leaned  out  of  the  window,  and  drew  in  long 
breaths  of  sweetness.  Presently  the  sweetness 
was  crossed  by  a  whiff  of  a  different  fragrance, 
pungent,  aromatic,  —  the  fragrance  of  tobacco. 
Doctor  Strong  was  smoking  his  evening  cigar 
in  the  garden.  He  would  not  have  thought  of 
smoking  in  the  house,  even  if  Miss  Phoebe 
would  have  allowed  it ;  he  smoked  as  he  rode 
on  his  morning  round,  and  he  took  his  evening 
cigar,  as  now,  in  the  garden.  Miss  Vesta  saw 
him  now,  in  the  growing  dusk,  striding  up 
and  down;  not  hastily,  but  with  energy  and 
determination  in  every  stride.  Her  eyes  dwelt 
upon  him  affectionately ;  she  had  grown  very 
fond  of  him.  It  was  delightful  to  her  to 
have  this  young,  vigorous  creature  in  the 
house,  fairly  electric  with  life  and  joy  and 


46  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

strength;  she  felt  younger  every  time  she 
saw  him.  He  was  good  to  look  at,  too, 
though  no  one  would  have  called  him  a 
beauty.  Tall  and  well-made,  his  head  prop 
erly  set  on  shoulders  that  were  perhaps  the 
least  bit  too  square;  his  fair  hair  cropped 
close,  in  hope  of  destroying  the  curl  that 
would  still  creep  into  it  in  spite  of  him;  his 
hazel  eyes  as  bright  as  eyes  could  be,  his  skin 
healthy  red  and  brown,  —  yes,  the  young 
doctor  was  good  to  look  at.  So  Miss  Vesta 
thought.  There  was  a  little  look,  too  —  it 
could  hardly  be  called  a  resemblance  —  yet 
he  reminded  her  somehow  —  Miss  Vesta's  face 
changed  from  a  white  to  a  pink  rose,  and  she 
said,  softly,  "  If  I  had  had  a  son,  he  might  have 
looked  like  this.  The  Lord  be  with  him  and 
give  him  grace ! " 

As  Miss  Vesta  watched  him,  Geoffrey  Strong 
stopped  to  examine  something  in  one  of  the 
borders;  stooped,  hands  on  knees,  and  scruti- 


GARDEN  FANCIES  47 

nised  a  certain  plant ;  then,  glancing  upward  as 
he  straightened  himself,  saw  Miss  Vesta  at  the 
window  looking  down  at  him. 

"Hurrah!"  he  cried.  "Come  down,  Miss 
Vesta,  won't  you,  please?  you  are  the  very 
person  I  want.  I  want  to  show  you  some 
thing." 

"  Surely  ! "  said  Miss  Vesta.  "  I  will  be 
with  you  in  a  moment,  Doctor  Strong;  only 
let  me  get  a  head-covering  from  my  room." 

When  she  had  left  the  window,  Geoffrey 
was  almost  sorry  he  had  called  her ;  she  made 
such  a  pretty  picture  standing  there,  framed 
in  the  broad  window,  the  evening  light  falling 
softly  on  her  soft  face  and  silver  hair.  It  was 
so  nice  of  her  to  wear  white  in  the  evening ! 
Why  didn't  old  ladies  always  wear  white  ? 
when  they  were  pretty,  he  added,  reflecting 
that  Miss  Phoebe  in  white  would  be  an 
alarming  vision.  His  mind  still  on  Miss 
Vesta,  he  quoted  half  aloud: 


48  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

"  A  still,  sweet,  placid,  moonlight  face, 

And  slightly  nonchalant, 
Which  seems  to  hold  a  middle  place 
Between  one's  love  and  aunt." 

"  I  wish  you  were  my  aunt ! "  he  ex 
claimed,  abruptly,  when  Miss  Vesta  ap 
peared  a  few  minutes  later,  with  a  screen 
of  delicate  white  wool  over  her  head  and 
shoulders. 

"  Is  that  what  you  wished  to  say  to  me  ? " 
asked  Miss  Vesta,  somewhat  bewildered. 

"  No !  oh,  no !  I  was  only  thinking  what 
a  perfect  aunt  you  would  make.  No,  I  wanted 
to  show  you  something ;  a  line  out  of  Brown 
ing,  illustrated  in  life;  one  of  my  favourite 
lines.  See  here,  Miss  Vesta ! " 

Miss  Vesta  looked. 

"  I  see  nothing,"  she  began.  "  Oh,  yes,  a 
miller !  Is  that  it,  Doctor  Strong  ?  Quite  a 
curious  miller.  The  study  of  insect  life  is  no 
doubt  —  " 


GARDEN  FANCIES  49 

"  A  moth !  don't  you  see  ? "  cried  the 
young  doctor.  "  On  the  phlox,  the  white 
phlox. 

"  <  And  here  she  paused  in  her  gracious  talk 
To  point  me  a  moth  on  the  milk-white  phlox.' 

"Don't  you  remember,  in  the  'Garden 
Fancies  ? ' " 

But  Miss  Vesta  did  not  remember. 

Didn't  she  know  Browning  ? 

She  confessed  that  she  did  not.  She  had 
fancied  that  he  was  not  quite  —  she  hardly 
thought  that  ladies  did  read  his  works  to 
any  extent.  "  Cowper  was  my  favourite  poet 
in  my  youth,"  she  said,  "  and  I  was  very  fond 
of  Mrs.  Hemans  and  Mrs.  Barbauld.  Their 
poetry  is  at  once  elegant  and  elevated  in  tone 
and  spirit.  I  hope  you  agree  with  me,  Doctor 
Strong  ? " 

"I  don't  know!"  said  Geoffrey,  "I  never 
read  'em.  But  Shelley,  Miss  Vesta !  you  love 


50  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

Shelley,  I'm  sure  ?  He  would  have  loved  you 
so,  you  know." 

Miss  Vesta's  quiet  face  showed  a  little 
trouble.  "Mr.  Shelley's  poetry,"  she  said, 
hesitatingly,  "is  very  beautiful.  He  was  — 
some  one  I  once  knew  was  devoted  to  Mr. 
Shelley's  poetry.  He  —  used  to  read  it  to  me. 
But  Sister  Phoebe  thought  Mr.  Shelley's  re 
ligious  views  were  —  a  —  not  what  one  would 
wish,  and  she  objected  to  my  following  the 
study." 

"  He  wrote  about  moths,  too,"  said  Geoffrey, 
abstractedly.  "The  desire  of  the  moth  for 
the  star,  you  know.  Those  things  make  you 
feel  queer  when  they  come  to  you  out  here, 
with  all  these  lights  and  dusks  and  smells. 
Now  I  wonder  why!" 

Miss  Vesta  looked  at  him  kindly.  "Per 
haps  there  is  some  tender  association,"  she 
said  gently,  "  such  as  is  natural  at  your  age, 
my  dear  young  friend." 


"  Not  an  association ! "  said  Geoffrey,  stoutly. 
"Never  had  one  in  my  life.  It's  only  in  a 
general  way.  These  things  stir  one  up,  some 
how  ;  it's  a  form  of  mental  intoxication.  Do 
you  think  a  man  could  get  drunk  on  sunset 
and  phlox,  Miss  Vesta  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  trust  not,  I  trust  not ! "  said  Miss 
Vesta,  hurriedly,  and  she  made  haste  to  change 
the  subject.  She  as  well  as  her  sister  found 
the  young  doctor's  expressions  overstrong  at 
times,  yet  she  loved  the  lad. 

"  The  roses  are  at  their  sweetest  now,"  she 
said,  leading  the  conversation  gently  away 
from  the  too  passionate  white  phlox,  on  which 
the  moth  was  still  waving  its  wings  drowsily. 
"This  black  damask  is  considered  very  fine, 
but  I  love  the  old-fashioned  June  roses  best." 

"'She  loves  you,  noble  roses,  I  know!"1 
said  Geoffrey,  who  certainly  was  not  himself 
to-night.  «  This  one  is  exactly  like  you,  Miss 
Vesta.  Look  at  it;  just  the  colour  of  ivory 


52  GEOFFREY  STEONG 

with  a  little  sunset  mixed  in.  Now  you  know 
what  you  look  like." 

"  Oh,  hush,  my  dear  young  friend ! "  said 
Miss  Vesta.  "You  must  not  —  really,  you 
know  —  talk  in  this  way.  But  —  it  is  curious 
that  you  should  have  noticed  that  particular 
rose ;  it  —  it  is  the  kind  I  used  to  wear  when 
I  was  young." 

She  looked  up  at  the  lamp  in  the  window. 
Geoffrey's  eyes  followed  hers.  Involuntarily 
he  laid  his  hand  on  hers.  "  Dear  Miss  Vesta ! " 
he  said,  and  his  strong,  hearty  voice  could  be 
very  gentle.  "  Miss  Blyth  told  me.  Does  it 
still  hurt,  dear  lady  ? " 

Miss  Vesta's  breath  fluttered  for  a  moment, 
but  it  was  only  a  moment.  Her  soft  white 
fingers,  cool  as  rose-leaves,  returned  the  pres 
sure  of  his  affectionately.  "  No,  my  —  my 
dear,"  she  said.  "It  does  not  hurt  —  now. 
There  is  no  pain  now,  only  memory ;  blessed, 
blessed  memory.  He  —  there  is  something 


GAEDEN  FANCIES  53 

—  you  remind  me  of  him  a  little,  Doctor 
Geoffrey." 

They  stood  silent,  the  young  man  and  the 
old  woman,  hand  in  hand  in  the  soft  evening.1 
The  splendour  in  the  west  died  out,  and  soft 
clouds  of  gray  and  purple  brooded  like  wings 
over  the  sea.  The  water  deepened  from  gold 
to  glimmering  gray,  from  gray  to  deep  brown 
and  blue.  In  one  spot  a  faint  glimmer  trembled 
on  the  waves ;  the  light  from  Miss  Vesta's  lamp. 
The  little  lady  gazed  at  it  long,  then  looked  up 
into  the  strong  young  face  above  her. 

"He  was  —  your  age!"  she  said,  hurrying 
the  words  out  in  a  low  murmur,  hardly  louder 
than  the  night  breeze  in  the  tall  lilac-trees. 
"  He  was  bright  and  strong  and  gay  like  you ; 
his  sun  went  down  while  it  was  yet  day. 
The  Lord  took  him  into  his  holy  keeping. 
I  wish  —  I  wish  you  all  the  joy  I  should 
have  tried  to  give  him,  Doctor  Geoffrey. 
I  wish  your  life  fortunate  and  brave,  and 


54  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

your  love  happy;  more  than  all,  your  love 
happy." 

She  pressed  his  hand,  and  went  quietly 
away ;  came  back  for  a  moment  to  pat  his  arm 
and  say  she  trusted  she  had  not  distressed 
him,  and  beg  him  not  to  stay  out  too  long  in 
the  night  air ;  then  went  into  the  house,  clos 
ing  the  door  softly  after  her. 

Left  alone,  Geoffrey  Strong  fell  to  his  pacing 
again,  up  and  down  the  neat  gravel  paths  with 
their  tall  box  hedges.  His  face  was  very 
tender ;  looking  at  it,  one  might  know  he  had 
been  a  loving  son  to  his  mother.  But  pres 
ently  he  frowned  over  his  cigar,  and  then 
laughed,  and  went  and  shook  the  unoffending 
moth  (it  was  a  rare  one,  if  he  had  been  think 
ing  of  that  kind  of  thing)  off  the  phlox. 

"  All  the  more  reason,  Stupid ! "  he  said  to 
the  moth,  as  it  flew  away.  "  A  man  goes  and 
gets  a  girl  to  care  for  him,  and  then  he  goes 
and  plays  some  fool  trick  —  like  as  not  this 


GARDEN  FANCIES  55 

chap  had  his  sheet  tied  —  and  leaves  her  alone 
the  rest  of  her  life.  Just  look  at  this  sweet 
old  angel,  will  you  ?  it's  a  shame.  No,  sir,  no 
woman  in  mine,  thank  you ! " 

He  paced  again.  The  moth  fluttered  off  in 
the  gloom;  fluttered  back,  hovered,  then  set 
tled  once  more  on  the  milk-white  phlox,  which 
glimmered  like  a  a  fragrant  ghost  in  the  half- 
light.  The  perfume  rose  from  the  flowers  and 
mingled  with  the  delicate  scent  of  the  roses 
and  the  heavier  breath  of  lilac  and  syringa. 

" '  Where  I  find  her  not,  beauties  vanish  ; 
Whither  I  follow  her,  beauties  flee. 
Is  there  no  method  to  tell  her  in  Spanish '  — 

"  Oh,  I  must  be  drunk ! "  said  Doctor  Geof 
frey.  He  tried  another  path.  A  new  fra 
grance  met  him,  the  keen,  clean,  cruelly  sweet 
smell  of  honeysuckle.  Browning  was  gone 
with  the  phlox  and  the  roses;  and  what 
was  this  coming  unbidden  into  his  head, 


56  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

crisp    and    clean    and    possessing,    like    the 
honeysuckle  ? 

" '  Where'er  she  be, 

That  not  impossible  She 

Who  shall  command  my  life  and  me ' — 

"  I  am  drunk ! "  said  Geoffrey  Strong.     And 
he  threw  away  his  cigar  and  went  to  bed. 


CHAPTEE    IV. 

MOSTLY   PROFESSIONAL 

"  I  FEAR  Doctor  Strong  will  be  very  much 
put  out ! "  said  Miss  Phoebe  Blyth. 

Miss  Vesta  sighed,  and  stirred  her  coffee 
delicately.  "  It  is  unfortunate ! "  she  said. 

"  Unfortunate !  my  dearest  Vesta,  it  is  ca 
lamitous.  Just  when  he  is  comfortably  settled 
in  surroundings  which  he  feels  to  be  con 
genial" —  Miss  Phoebe  bridled,  and  glanced 
round  the  pleasant  dining-room — "to  have 
these  surroundings  invaded  by  what  he  dis 
likes  most  in  the  world,  a  girl,  and  a  sick  girl 
at  that ;  I  tell  you  it  would  not  surprise  me  if 
he  should  give  notice  at  once." 

This  was  not  quite  true,  for  Miss  Phoebe 

6T 


58  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

would  have  been  greatly  surprised  at  Doctor 
Strong's  doing  anything  of  the  kind ;  but  she 
enjoyed  saying  it,  and  felt  rather  better  after  it. 

"We  could  not  possibly  refuse,  though, 
Sister  Phosbe,"  said  Miss  Vesta,  mildly. 
"Little  Vesta  being  my  name-child,  and 
Brother  Nathaniel  without  faculty,  as  one 
may  say,  —  and  it  is  certainly  no  place  for 
her  at  home." 

"  My  dearest  Vesta,  I  have  not  been  entirely 
deprived  of  my  senses  ! "  Miss  Phoebe  spoke 
with  some  asperity.  "Of  course  we  cannot 
refuse,  and  of  course  we  must  do  our  utmost 
for  our  brother's  motherless  child;  but  none 
the  less,  it  is  calamitous,  I  repeat ;  and  I  am 
positive  that  Doctor  Strong  will  be  greatly 
annoyed." 

At  this  moment  Geoffrey  came  in,  full  of 
apologies  for  his  ten  minutes'  tardiness.  The 
apologies  were  graciously  received.  The  Miss 
Blyths  would  never  have  thought  of  such  a 


MOSTLY  PEOFESSIONAL  59 

thing  as  being  late  to  breakfast  themselves, 
but  they  were  not  ill-pleased  to  have  their 
lodger,  occasionally  —  not  too  often  —  sleep 
beyond  the  usual  hour.  It  showed  that  he 
felt  at  home,  Miss  Phoebe  said,  and  Miss 
Vesta,  the  mother-instinct  brooding  over  the 
lad  she  loved,  thought  he  needed  all  the  sleep 
he  could  get,  and  more. 

"  It's  really  disgraceful ! "  said  the  young 
doctor  for  the  third  time,  as  he  drew  his  chair 
up  to  the  table.  "Yes,  please,  three  lumps. 
There  never  was  such  coffee  in  the  world,  Miss 
Blyth.  I  believe  the  Sultan  sends  it  to  you 
from  his  own  private  coffee-garden.  Creamed 
chicken  ?  won't  I  ?  and  muffins,  and  marma 
lade,  —  what  a  blessing  to  be  naturally  greedy  ! 
More  pain  this  morning,  Miss  Blyth  ?  I  hope 
not."  His  quick  eye  had  seen  the  cloud  on 
his  hostess's  brow,  and  he  was  all  attention 
and  sympathy  over  his  coffee-cup. 

"I  thank  you,  Doctor  Strong;  I  feel  little 


60  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

pain  this  morning ;  in  fact,  I  may  almost  say 
none.  But  I  —  we  have  been  somewhat  dis 
turbed  by  the  contents  of  a  letter  we  have 
received." 

"  Bad  news  ? "  cried  Geoffrey.  "  I'm  so 
sorry !  Is  there  anything  I  can  do,  Miss 
Blyth  ?  You  will  command  me,  of  course ; 
send  telegrams,  or  —  " 

"I  —  thank  you!  You  are  always  most 
kind  and  considerate,  Doctor  Strong.  The 
fact  is "  —  Miss  Phoebe  hesitated,  casting 
about  in  her  mind  for  the  best  way  of  break 
ing  the  news, -—"the  fact  is,  my  brother  is 
a  widower." 

"Very  sad,  I'm  sure!"  murmured  Geoffrey 
Strong.  "  Was  it  sudden  ?  these  shocks  are 
terribly  trying.  How  did  she  —  " 

"  Oh  —  no  !  you  misapprehend  me,  Doctor 
Strong.  Not  sudden,  nor  —  nor  what  you 
would  call  recent.  It  is  some  years  since 
Nathaniel's  wife  died." 


MOSTLY  PBOFESSIONAL  61 

"  Old  gentleman  going  to  pass  away  him 
self  ? "  said  Geoffrey,  but  not  aloud ;  he  was 
aware  of  his  tendency  to  headlong  plunges ;  it 
was  manifestly  better  to  wait  further  explana 
tions  and  not  commit  himself. 

"  My  brother  has  an  only  daughter,"  Miss 
Phoebe  went  on,  "a  girl  of  twenty.  She  has 
been  at  college  (I  strongly  disapproved  of  her 
going,  but  the  child  is  headstrong),  and  has 
worked  beyond  her  strength.  She  —  that  is, 
her  father,  is  anxious  for  her  to  come  and  pass 
a  month  or  two  with  us;  he  thinks  the  sea 
air  will  benefit  her." 

"No  doubt  it  will!"  said  Geoffrey,  still 
awaiting  the  catastrophe.  It  was  a  great 
bore,  of  course,  in  fact  a  nuisance,  but  it 
couldn't  be  helped. 

"  This  —  this  is  what  has  troubled  us,  Doc 
tor  Strong.  We  fear,  my  sister  and  I,  that  the 
presence  of  a  young  —  person  of  the  other  sex 
—  will  be  disturbing  to  you." 


62  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

Miss  Vesta  looked  up  quickly,  but  said 
nothing.  Geoffrey  looked  bewildered  for  a 
moment,  then  laughed  aloud,  colouring  like 
a  schoolboy.  "Why,  Miss  Blyth,  what  must 
you  think  of  me  ? "  he  said.  "  I  am  not  par 
ticularly  given  to  —  to  the  society  of  young 
ladies,  but  I  am  not  such  a  misogynist  as  all 
that." 

Miss  Phoebe  did  not  know  what  a  misogynist 
was,  and  did  not  like  to  ask;  there  were  so 
many  dangerous  and  levelling  doctrines  about, 
as  her  father  always  said.  Whatever  it  was, 
she  was  heartily  glad  that  Doctor  Strong  did 
not  believe  in  it. 

"  Vesta'  is  a  good  child,"  said  Miss  Vesta. 
"  She  makes  no  noise  or  trouble  in  the  house, 
even  when  she  is  well.  We  shall  of  course 
see  that  your  convenience  is  not  interfered 
with  in  any  way,  Doctor  Strong." 

"If  you  talk  like  that,  I  shall  pack  my 
trunk  and  go  to-morrow,"  said  Geoffrey,  de- 


MOSTLY  PROFESSIONAL  63 

cidedly ;  "  and  I  don't  want  to  go  a  bit.  It's 
I  who  am  likely  to  be  in  the  way,  so  far  as  I 
can  see;  but  you  won't  send  me  off  just  yet, 
will  you  ? " 

When  Geoffrey  Strong  smiled,  people  were 
apt  to  do  what  he  wished,  unless  they  were 
ill-conditioned  people  indeed,  and  Miss  Phoebe 
and  Miss  Vesta  were  far  from  ill-conditioned. 

"I've  never  been  so  happy  anywhere,"  the 
young  man  went  on  in  his  eager  way,  "  since 

—  since  my  own  home  was  broken  up.     I'd 
stay  if  you  would  let  me,  if  there  were  twenty 

—  I  —  I  mean,  of  course  it  will  be  delightful 
to  —  may   I    have    another    muffin,    please  ? 
Thanks ! "  Geoffrey  had  broken  short  off,  be 
ing  a  person  of  absolute  honesty. 

"I  trust  your  niece  is  not  seriously  out  of 
health,"  he  said,  in  conclusion,  with  his  most 
professional  air.  "  Is  any  malady  indicated,  or 
merely  overf atigue  ? " 

Miss  Phoebe  put  on  her  spectacles  and  took 


64  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

up  the  letter.  "There  is  a  word,"  she  said, 
c  that  I  did  not  understand,  I  must  confess. 
If  you  will  allow  me,  Doctor  Strong,  I  will 
read  you  a  portion  of  my  brother's  remarks. 
A  —  yes !  '  Vesta  seems  very  far  from  well. 
She  cries,  and  will  not  eat,  and  she  looks  like 
a  ghost.  The  doctor  calls  it  neurasthenia.' " 

Doctor  Strong  uttered  an  exclamation.  Miss 
Phoebe  looked  up  in  dismay. 

"It  is  nothing  contagious,  I  trust,  Doctor 
Strong  ? " 

"No!  no!  nothing  of  the  kind.  Go  on, 
please!  any  more  symptoms?" 

"  I  think  not.  She  has  no  appetite,  he  says, 
and  does  not  sleep  well.  He  says  nothing  of 
any  rash."  Miss  Phoebe  looked  anxiously  at 
the  young  doctor.  To  her  amazement,  he  was 
leaning  forward,  muffin  in  hand,  his  face  wear 
ing  its  brightest  and  most  eager  look. 

"  Is  that  all  ? "  he  said.  "  Well  —  of  course 
that's  not  professional.  Very  likely  the  phy- 


MOSTLY  PROFESSIONAL  65 

sician  there  will  send  a  written  diagnosis  if 
you  ask  him.  You  see,  Miss  Blyth,  this  is 
very  interesting  to  me.  I  want  to  make  a 
study  of  nerves,  —  that's  all  the  word  means, 
disordered  nerves,  —  and  it  will  be  the  greatest 
pleasure  to  me  to  try  to  he  of  service  to  your 
niece ;  if  you  should  wish  it,  that  is." 

"  Oh,  Doctor  Strong  1  you  are  too  kind  1 " 
said  both  ladies  in  duet. 

They  were  so  relieved,  they  overflowed  in 
little  grateful  courtesies.  He  must  have  more 
cream;  he  was  eating  nothing.  They  feared 
his  egg  was  not  quite  —  was  he  positively 
sure  ?  it  would  sometimes  happen,  with  the 
greatest  care,  that  eggs  were  not  quite  —  a 
little  scrap  more  bacon,  then!  or  would  he 
fancy  some  fresh  cream  cheese?  and  so  on 
and  so  on,  till  the  young  doctor  cried  out, 
and  said  that  if  he  ate  any  more  he  should 
not  be  able  to  mount  his  bicycle,  far  less 
ride  it. 


66  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

"  By  the  way,"  he  added,  "  I  didn't  see  you 
when  I  came  in  last  night.  I  hope  I  didn't 
disturb  either  of  you.  No  ?  That's  right ;  if 
I  ever  make  a  noise  coming  in  late,  shoot  me 
at  sight,  please.  You  took  the  powder,  Miss 
Blyth?  and  slept  well?  Hurrah!  Well,  I 
was  going  to  say,  I  had  a  rather  amusing  time 
at  Shellback." 

Shellback  was  a  village  some  ten  miles  off, 
whither  he  had  been  summoned  the  evening 
before.  Both  ladies  brightened  up.  They 
delighted  to  hear  of  the  young  doctor's  expe 
riences. 

"I  don't  suppose  you  know,"  Doctor 
Strong  went  on,  — "  no,  you  wouldn't  be 
likely  to,  —  an  old  man  named  Butters, 
Ithuriel  Butters  ?  Quaint  name  !  suggests 
'Paradise  Lost'  and  buns.  Old  Man  Butters 
they  call  him.  Well,  I  went  to  see  him; 
and  I  got  a  lesson  in  therapeutics,  and  two 
recipes  for  curing  rheumatism,  beside.  I 


MOSTLY  PROFESSIONAL  67 

think  I  must  try  one  of  them  on  you,  Miss 
Blyth." 

Miss  Phoebe,  who  was  literal,  was  about  to 
assure  him  that  she  was  amply  satisfied  with 
the  remedies  already  in  use ;  but  he  went  on, 
in  high  enjoyment,  evidently  seeing  almost 
with  his  bodily  vision  the  figures  he  conjured 
up. 

"  It  seems  the  old  gentleman  didn't  want  me 
sent  for;  in  fact,  the  family  had  done  it  on 
the  sly,  being  alarmed  at  certain  symptoms 
new  to  them.  I  got  out  there,  and  found  the 
old  fellow  sitting  in  his  armchair,  smoking  his 
pipe;  fine-looking  old  boy,  white  hair  and 
beard,  and  all  that.  Looked  me  all  over,  and 
asked  me  what  I  wanted.  Wife  and  daughter 
kept  out  of  the  way,  evidently  scared  at  what 
they  had  done.  I  went  in  alone.  I  said  I  had 
come  to  see  him. 

"'All  right,'  says  he.  'No  extra  charge!' 
and  he  shut  his  eyes,  and  smoked  away  for 


68  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

dear  life.  Presently  he  opened  his  eyes,  and 
looked  at  me  again. 

" '  Like  my  looks  ? '  he  says. 

"'Yes,'  said  I.  I  thought  he  might  have 
returned  the  compliment,  but  he  didn't;  he 
only  grunted.  I  waited  a  hit,  talked  of  this 
and  that ;  at  last  I  said, « How  are  you  feeling 
this  evening,  Mr.  Butters  ? ' 

" '  First-rate  ! '  said  he.     '  How  be  you  ? ' 

" '  I'm  all  right,'  said  I,  '  but  I  don't  believe 
you  are,  sir.  You  are  not  the  right  colour  at  all.' 

" '  What  colour  be  I  ?  not  green,  I  calc'late ! ' 
Then  we  both  laughed,  and  felt  better.  I  asked 
if  I  might  smoke,  too,  and  took  out  my  pipe. 
Pretty  soon  the  old  fellow  began  to  talk. 

" '  My  women-folks  sent  for  you,  did  they  ? 
I  suspicioned  they  had.  Fact,  I  was  slim  this 
mornin' ;  took  slim  suddin,  whilest  I  was 
milkin'.  Didn't  relish  my  victuals,  and  that 
scairt  the  woman.  But  I  took  my  physic,  and, 
come  afternoon,  I  was  spryer  'n  a  steer  agin.' 


MOSTLY  PROFESSIONAL  69 

" '  What  is  your  physic,  if  I  may  ask,  Mr. 
Butters  ? ' 

" '  Woodpile ! '  says  the  old  fellow. 

" '  Woodpile  ? '  said  I. 

" '  Cord  o'  wood.  Axe.  Sweat  o'  the  brow. 
Them's  the  best  physic  I  know  of.' 

"  He  smoked  on  for  a  bit,  and  I  sat  and 
looked  at  him,  admiring  how  the  world  was 
made.  I  don't  know  whether  you  read  Kip 
ling,  Miss  Vesta.  I  was  rewarded  for  my 
patience. 

"'Young  feller,'  said  the  old  man,  after 
awhile, '  how  old  do  you  s'pose  I  be  ? ' 

" '  Seventy,'  said  I ;  and  he  looked  it,  not  a 
day  over. 

"'Add  fifteen  to  that,'  says  he,  'and  you 
have  it.  Eighty-five  year  last  Jenooary.  You 
are  under  thirty,  I  reckon  ?  Thought  so ! 
Well,  I  was  gettin'  on  for  sixty  year  old  when 
you  was  born.  See  ? ' 

"I  did  see,  but  I  wasn't  going  to  give  in 


70  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

yet.  'Did  you  ever  study  medicine,  Mr. 
Butters  ? '  I  said. 

" '  Study  medicine  ?  No,  sir !  but  I've  lived 
with  my  own  bones  and  insides  till  I  know 
'em  consid'abte  well ;  and  I've  seen  consid'able 
of  folks,  them  as  doctored  and  them  as  didn't. 
My  wives  doctored,  all  three  of  'em.  I  buried 
two  of  'em,  and  good  ones,  too ;  and,  like  as 
not,  I'll  bury  the  third.  She  ain't  none  too 
rugged  this  summer,  though  she  ain't  but 
seventy.  But,  what  I  say  is,  start  well,  and 
stay  well,  and  don't  werry.  You  tell  your 
patients  that,  and  fust  thing  you  know  you 
won't  have  any.' " 

"A  singularly  ignorant  person,  this  Mr. 
Butters!"  said  Miss  Phoebe. 

"I  don't  know!"  said  the  young  doctor. 
"I'm  not  so  sure  about  that.  I  know  it 
would  be  a  bad  thing  for  the  medical  profes 
sion  if  his  ideas  were  generally  taken  up. 
Well,  he  went  on  over  his  pipe.  I  wish  you 


MOSTLY  PROFESSIONAL  71 

could  have  seen  him,  Miss  Yesta.  He  looked 
like  a  veritable  patriarch  come  to  life.  Fancy 
Abraham  with  a  T.  D.  pipe,  and  you  have 
Ithuriel  Butters.  Awfully  sad  for  those  poor 
old  duffers  not  to  have  tobacco.  I  beg  your 
pardon,  Miss  Blyth. 

" '  Yes,'  said  the  old  fellow.  '  I've  seen  folks 
as  doctored,  and  I've  seen  folks  as  fooled/ 

« '  Fooled  ? '  said  I. 

"'Notions;  fool's  tricks;  idees!  Take  my 
brother  Eeuel.  He  used  to  have  rheumatiz; 
had  it  bad.  One  day  there  was  a  thunder-storm, 
and  he  was  out  gettin'  in  his  hay,  and  was 
struck  by  lightnin'.  Fluid  run  along  the  rake 
and  spit  in  his  face,  he  used  to  say.  He  lost 
the  use  of  his  eyes  and  hands  for  six  months, 
but  he  never  had  rheumatiz  again  for  twenty 
years.  Swore  it  was  the  electricity;  said  he 
swallered  it,  and  it  got  into  his  system  and 
cured  him.  What  do  you  say  to  that,  young 
feller?' 


72  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

" '  It's  an  experiment  I  never  tried/  said  I. 
'  I'm  not  going  to  commit  myself,  Mr.  Butters. 
But  that's  a  good  story.' 

" '  Hold  on ! '  said  he ;  '  that  ain't  all  'Bout 
twenty-five  years  after  that  —  Reuel  was  gettin' 
on  by  that  time  —  he  was  out  fishin',  and  a 
squall  come  up  and  swamped  his  boat.  He 
was  in  the  water  quite  a  spell,  and  come  next 
day  he  was  all  doubled  up  with  rheumatiz. 
He  was  the  maddest  man  you  ever  see.  He 
wouldn't  do  a  thing,  only  sit  hunched  up  in 
his  chair  and  ask  about  the  weather.  It  was 
summer-time,  and  good  hayin'  weather  as  a 
rule,  Bumbye  come  a  fryin'  hot  day,  and 
sure  enough  we  had  a  thunder-storm  in  the 
afternoon.  When  it  was  bangin'  away  good 
and  solid,  Eeuel  hitched  himself  out  of  his 
chair,  took  an  iron  rake  in  one  hand  and  a 
hoe  in  the  other,  crep'  out  of  the  house,  and 
went  and  sot  down  under  a  tree  in  the  middle 
of  the  pasture.  Wife  tried  to  stop  him,  but 


MOSTLY  PROFESSIONAL  73 

she  might  as  well  have  tried  to  stop  the  light- 
nin'.  Well,  sir,  the  tree  was  struck,  and  Keuel 
never  had  no  more  rheumatiz.  Couldn't  tell 
which  was  tree  and  which  was  him.  That 
comes  of  havin'  idees.'" 

"Dear  me!"  said  Miss  Vesta.  "What  a 
painful  story  !  His  poor  wife ! " 

"Such  impious  ignorance  I  think  I  never 
heard  of!"  said  Miss  Phoebe,  rigidly.  "I 
should  think  the  —  a  —  family  a  most  un 
profitable  one  for  you  to  visit,  Doctor  Strong." 

"  But  so  consistent ! "  said  Geoffrey.  "  Know 
ing  their  own  minds,  and  carrying  out  their 
own  theories  of  hygiene.  It's  very  refreshing, 
I  must  admit.  But" —  Geoffrey  saw  that 
his  hostesses  were  not  amused,  nor  anything 
but  pained  and  shocked  —  "this  is  enough 
about  Ithuriel  Butters,  isn't  it  ?  We  decided 
that  he  would  better  take  a  little  something 
dark-coloured,  with  a  good  solid  smell  to  it, 
to  please  his  '  women-folks ; '  he'll  go  out  some 


74  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

day  like  the  snuff  of  a  candle,  and  he  knows 
it.  But  you  don't  want  to  try  the  lightning 
cure,  do  you,  Miss  Blyth  ? " 

"  I  most  certainly  do  not ! "  said  Miss 
Phoebe,  concisely ;  and  she  reflected  that  even 
the  best  and  most  intelligent  of  men  might 
often  be  lacking  in  delicate  perception. 


CHAPTEE   V. 

LETTER -WRITING   AND    HYSTERICS 

THE  young  doctor  sat  in  his  room  writing. 
It  was  a  pleasant  room,  looking  upon  the 
garden,  and  in  style  and  furnishing  altogether 
to  the  young  doctor's  taste.  He  liked  the  tall 
narrow  mantel,  with  its  delicate  mouldings; 
he  liked  the  white  paint,  and  the  high  wainscot 
ing  against  which  the  old  mahogany  came  out 
so  well;  and  he  liked  the  mahogany  itself, 
which  was  in  quaint  and  graceful  shapes. 
The  dimity  curtains,  too,  with  their  ball  and 
tassel  fringe,  were  of  such  a  fresh  clear  white. 
They  had  never  been  dirty,  they  never  could 
be  dirty,  the  young  doctor  thought;  some 
things  must  always  be  fresh  and  clean;  like 

75 


76  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

that  girl's  dresses.  He  was  sitting  in  his 
favourite  chair;  a  chair  that  stimulated  to 
effort  or  wooed  to  repose,  according  to  the 
attitude  one  assumed  in  it.  Geoffrey  Strong 
felt  a  sort  of  ownership  in  this  chair,  for  he 
had  discovered  the  secret  pocket  in  one  arm ; 
the  tiny  panel  which,  when  pressed  one  day 
by  his  careless  fingers,  slipped  aside,  revealing 
a  dark  polished  well,  and  in  the  well  an  ancient 
vinaigrette  of  green  and  gold  glass.  Some 
times  Geoffrey  would  take  out  the  vinaigrette 
and  sniff  its  faded  perfume,  and  it  told  him  a 
new  story  every  time.  Now,  however,  it  lay 
quiet  in  its  nest,  for  Geoffrey  was  writing  busily. 

"You  can't  laugh  any  more  at  me  and  my  old 
ladies,  Jim.  There's  a  new  development,  a  young 
lady  ;  niece,  visitor  here,  and  invalid  visitor  at  that. 
Neurasthenia,  overwork  at  college,  the  old  story. 
When  will  young  women  learn  that  they  are  not 
young  men?  Malady  in  this  case  takes  the  form 
of  aversion  to  the  male  sex  in  general,  and  G.  S.  in 
particular.  Handsome,  sullen  creature,  tawny  hair, 


LETTER -WRITING  AND  HYSTERICS  77 

eyes  no  particular  colour,  but  very  brilliant ;  pupils 
much  dilated.  I  won't  bother  you  with  symptoms 
while  you  are  off  on  your  vacation,  but  she  has 
some  interesting  ones.  The  dear  old  ladies  want 
me  to  prescribe  for  her,  but  she  prefers  to  play  with 
pills  herself.  Has  a  remarkable  voice,  deep  notes 
now  and  again  that  thrill  like  the  middle  tones  of 
a  'cello  ;  or  might,  if  they  said  anything  but  « Please 
pass  the  butter  1'  If  she  were  better  tempered,  I 
should  be  tempted  to  send  for  you ;  you  are  simply 
spoiling  for  some  one  to  fall  in  love  with,  I  can  tell 
that  from  your  last  letter.  The  pretty  brunette  had 
not  intellectuality  enough,  hadn't  she?  My  dear 
fellow,  as  if  that  had  anything  to  do  with  it !  You 
were  not  ready,  that  was  all.  You  fall  in  love  by 
clockwork  once  every  year  ;  and  it  is  time  now.  If 
you  should  see  the  P.  B.  again  to-morrow,  you'd  be 
lost  directly.  As  for  ine  —  I  should  think  you 
would  be  tired  of  asking.  No,  I  am  not  in  love. 
No,  I  feel  no  inclination  whatever  to  become  so. 
No,  there  is  no  '  charmer ;  (what  vile  expressions 
you  use,  James  ;  go  back  to  the  English  Department, 
and  learn  how  to  speak  of  Woman !)  who  interests 
me  in  the  least  (except  pathologically,  of  course), 
except  Miss  Yesta  Blyth,  aged  sixty.  I  am  in  love 
with  her,  I  grant  you ;  anybody  would  be,  with  eyes 


78  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

in  his  head.  Don't  I  know  that  I  would  amount  to 
twice  as  much  if  the  society  of  women  formed  part 
of  my  life?  Numskull,  it  does  form  part  of  it,  a 
very  important  part.  In  the  first  place,  I  have  my 
patients.  Body  of  me,  my  patients  1  Did  I  not  sit 
a  stricken  hour  with  Mrs.  Abigail  Plummer  yester 
day  afternoon  ?  She  '  feels  a  crawling  in  her  pipes,' 
—  I'll  spare  you  Mrs.  Plummer,  but  you  must  hear 
how  Mrs.  Cotton  cured  her  lumbago.  (I  am  still 
hunting  rheumatic  affections,  yes,  and  always  shall 
be.)  She  took  a  quart  of  rum,  my  Christian  friend  ; 
she  put  into  it  a  pound  and  a  half  of  sulphur  and 
three-quarters  of  a  pound  of  cream  tartar,  and  took 
4  a  good  swaller '  three  or  four  times  a  day.  There's 
therapeutics  for  you,  sir  !  Lady  weighs  three  hun 
dred  pounds  if  she  does  an  ounce,  and  has  a  colour 
like  a  baby's.  Well,  I  could  go  on  indefinitely. 
That's  in  the  first  place.  In.  the  second,  I  have 
here  in  this  house  society  that  is  absolutely  to  my 
mind.  Experience  is  life,  you  grant  that.  There 
fore,  the  person  of  experience  is  the  person  who 
really  lives.  (Of  course  I  admit  exceptions.)  There 
fore,  the  society  of  a  woman  of  sixty  —  an  intelligent 
woman  —  is  infinitely  more  to  be  desired  than  that 
of  a  callow  girl  with  nothing  but  eyes  and  theories. 
It  is  profitable,  it  is  delightful;  and  this  with  no 


LETTER  -  WRITING  AND  HYSTERICS  79 

hurrying  of  the  heart,  no  upsetting  of  the  nerves, 
none  of  the  deplorable  symptoms  that  I  observe 
annually  in1  my  friend  Mr.  James  Swift.  That  for 
the  second  place.  There  is  a  third.  Jim,  Jim,  do 
you  forget  that  I  was  brought  up  with  « six  female 
cousins,  and  all  of  them  girls?'  They  were  virtuous 
young  women,  every  one  of  them  ;  one  or  two  were 
good  looking  ;  four  of  them  (including  the  plainest), 
have  married,  and  I  trust  their  husbands  find  them 
interesting.  I  did  not,  but  I  '  learned  about  women 
from  them,'  as  the  lynx-eyed  schoolboy  does  learn. 
I  divided  them  into  three  classes,  sugary,  vinegary, 
peppery  ;  to-day  I  should  be  more  professional ;  let 
us  say  saccharine,  acidulated,  irritant.  These  classes 
still  seem  to  me  to  include  the  greater  part  of  young 
womankind.  Sorry  to  displease,  but  sich  am  de 
facts.  And  —  yes,  I  still  sing  <  aber  heirathen  ist  nie 
mein  Sinn! '  Business  ?  oh,  so  so !  A  country 
doctor  doesn't  make  a  fortune,  but  he  learns  a  power, 
if  he  isn't  an  idiot.  Now  here  is  enough  about  me, 
in  all  conscience.  When  you  write,  tell  me  about 
yourself,  and  what  the  other  fellows  are  doing. 
After  all,  that  is  —  " 

Geoffrey  came  to  the  end  of  his  paper,  and 
paused  to  take  a  fresh  sheet.     Glancing  up  as 


80  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

he  did  so,  lie  also  glanced  out  of  the  window, 
to  see  what  was  going  on  in  the  garden.  He 
always  liked  to  keep  in  touch  with  the  gar 
den,  and  was  on  intimate  terms  with  every 
bird  and  blossom  in  it.  It  was  neither  bird 
nor  blossom  that  his  eyes  lighted  on  now.  A 
young  girl  stood  on  the  gravel-path,  near  his 
favourite  syringa  arbour.  A  hammock  hung 
over  her  arm,  and  she  carried  a  book  and  a 
pillow.  She  was  looking  about  her,  evidently 
trying  to  select  a  place  to  hang  her  hammock. 
Geoffrey  considered  her.  She  was  dressed  in 
clear  white;  her  hair,  of  a  tawny  reddish 
yellow,  hung  in  one  heavy  braid  over  her 
shoulder. 

"  Oh,  yes,  she  is  handsome,"  said  Geoffrey, 
addressing  the  syringa-bush.  "I  never  said 
she  wasn't  handsome.  The  question  is,  would 
she  like  me  to  hang  that  hammock  for  her, 
or  would  she  consider  it  none  of  my  busi 
ness  ?  " 


LETTER -WRITING  AND  HYSTERICS  81 

At  this  moment  the  girl  dropped  the  book ; 
then  the  pillow  slipped  from  her  hands.  She 
threw  down  the  hammock  with  a  petulant 
gesture  and  stood  looking  at  the  syringa-bush 
as  if  it  were  her  mortal  enemy.  Geoffrey 
Strong  laid  down  his  pen. 

A  few  minutes  later  he  came  sauntering 
leisurely  round  the  corner.  One  would  have 
said  he  had  been  spending  an  hour  in  the  gar 
den,  and  was  now  going  in. 

"Good  morning,  Miss  Blyth!  glorious  day, 
isn't  it  ?  going  to  sling  a  hammock  ?  let  me 
do  it,  won't  you?" 

Vesta  Blyth  looked  at  him  with  sombre  eyes. 
"  I  couldn't  hold  it ! "  she  said,  unwillingly. 
"  There  is  no  strength  left  in  my  hands." 

"  You  are  still  tired,  you  see,"  said  Geoffrey, 
cheerfully,  as  he  picked  up  the  hammock. 
"That's  perfectly  natural." 

"It  isn't  natural!"  said  the  girl,  fiercely. 
"It's  devilish!" 


82  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

"  This  is  a  good  place,"  said  Geoffrey,  paying 
no  attention  to  her.  "Combination  of  shade 
and  sun,  you  see.  Pillow  at  this  end  ?  There  1 
how  is  that  ? " 

"  Thank  you !  it  will  do  very  well" 

She  stretched  herself  at  full  length  in  the 
hammock.  Her  movements  were  perfectly 
graceful,  he  noted ;  and  he  made  a  swift  com 
parison  with  the  way  his  cousins  flounced  or 
twittered  or  slumped  into  a  hammock. 

He  stood  looking  at  her,  his  hand  still  on 
the  hammock-rope.  He  was  conscious  only  of 
a  friendly  feeling  of  compassion  for  this  fair 
young  creature,  built  for  vigour  and  an  active 
life,  now  condemned  for  months,  it  might  be 
years,  of  weariness  and  pain.  Whether  any 
unconscious  keenness  of  scrutiny  crept  into 
his  eyes  or  not,  is  not  known ;  but  as  Vesta 
Blyth  looked  up  and  met  their  gaze,  a  wave  of 
angry  crimson  rushed  over  her  face  and  neck. 

"Doctor   Strong,"  she   said,   violently,   her 


He  stood  looking  at  her,  his  hand  still  on  the 
hammock  rope. 


LETTER  -WRITING  AND  HYSTERICS    83 

voice  low  and  vibrating,  as  some  women's 
are  in  passion,  "I  must  request  you  not  to 
look  at  me  ! " 

Geoffrey  started,  and  coloured  in  his  turn. 
"  I  beg  your  pardon ! "  he  said.  "  I  was  not 
aware  —  I  assure  you  I  had  no  intention  of 
being  rude,  Miss  Blyth." 

"You  were  not  rude!"  Vesta  swept  on. 
"  I  am  rude ;  I  am  unreasonable,  I  am  absurd. 
I  can't  help  it.  I  will  not  be  looked  at  pro 
fessionally.  Half  the  people  in  this  village 
would  welcome  your  professional  glance  as  a 
beam  from  heaven,  and  bask  in  it,  and  drop 
every  symptom  as  if  it  were  a  pearl,  but  I  am 
not  a '  case.'  I  am  simply  a  human  being,  who 
asks  nothing  but  to  be  let  alone." 

She  stopped  abruptly,  her  bosom  heaving, 
her  eyes  like  black  agates  with  fire  behind 
them,  looking  straight  past  him  at  the  trees 
beyond.  "  If  you  wish  to  put  me  to  the  last 
humiliation,"  she  added,  hurriedly,  "you  may 


84  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

wait  and  have  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  me 
cry;  if  not  —  " 

But  Geoffrey  was  gone,  fleeing  into  the 
house  with  the  sound  of  stormy  sobs  chasing 
him  like  Furies.  He  never  stopped  till  he 
reached  his  own  room,  where  he  flung  himself 
into  his  chair  in  most  unprofessional  agitation. 
The  window  was  open  —  what  a  fool  he  was 
to  leave  windows  open !  —  and  the  sound  fol 
lowed  him ;  he  could  not  shut  it  out.  Dread 
ful  sobs,  choking,  agonising;  he  felt,  as  if 
he  saw  it,  the  whole  slender  figure  shaken 
with  them.  Good  heavens !  the  girl  would 
be  in  convulsions  if  she  went  on  at  this 
rate. 

Now  the  sobs  died  away  into  long  moans, 
into  quivering  breaths;  now  they  broke  out 
again,  insistent,  terrible.  Broken  words  among 
them,  too. 

"What  shall  I  do?  Oh,  dear!  oh,  dear  I 
what  shall  I  do?" 


LETTER -WRITING  AND  HYSTERICS    85 

Geoffrey,  who  had  been  trying  to  look  over 
some  papers,  started  up  and  paced  the  room 
hurriedly.  "This  —  this  is  very  curious  !" 
he  was  trying  to  say  to  himself.  "Hysteria 
pure  and  simple  —  very  interesting  —  I  must 
note  the  duration  of  the  paroxysms.  Good 
God !  can't  somebody  stop  her  ?  perfectly  in 
human,  to  let  a  creature  go  on  like  that!" 

He  was  at  the  door,  with  some  vague  idea 
of  alarming  the  house,  when  a  soft  knock  was 
heard  on  the  other  side.  He  flung  the  door 
open,  and  startled  Miss  Vesta  so  that  she  gave 
a  little  cry  of  dismay,  and  retreated  to  the 
head  of  the  stairs.  "  Pray  excuse  me,  Doctor 
Strong,"  she  said.  "  I  see  that  you  are  occu 
pied  ;  I  pray  you  to  excuse  me ! " 

"  No,  no  ! "  said  Geoffrey,  hurriedly.  **  I  am 
not  —  it's  nothing  at  all  What  can  I  do  for 
you,  Miss  Vesta  ?  Do  come  in,  please ! " 

"My  niece,"  said  the  little  lady,  with  a 
troubled  look,  "  is  in  a  highly  nervous  condi- 


86  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

tion  to-day,  Doctor  Strong.  She  is  —  weep 
ing.  My  sister  thought  you  might  have  — " 
she  paused,  as  Miss  Phcebe's  crisp  and  decided 
tones  came  up  over  the  stairs. 

"Little  Vesta  has  got  into  a  crying-spell, 
Doctor  Strong.  I  want  a  little  valerian  for 
her,  please.  I  will  go  down  and  give  it  to  her 
myself,  if  you  will  hand  it  to  my  sister." 

"  In  one  moment,  Miss  Blyth,"  called  Geof 
frey,  in  his  most  composed  and  professional 
tones.  Then,  seizing  Miss  Vesta's  hand,  he 
almost  dragged  her  into  the  room,  and  shut 
the  door. 

"Don't  let  her  go!"  he  said,  hurriedly,  as 
he  sought  and  poured  out  the  valerian.  "  Take 
it  yourself,  please,  Miss  Vesta,  please !  Miss 
Blyth  will  —  that  is,  she  is  less  gentle  than 
you ;  if  your  niece  is  in  such  a  condition  as  — 
as  you  say,  you  are  the  one  to  soothe  her. 
Will  you  go  ?  Please  do." 

"Dear   Doctor    Strong,"   said    Miss   Vesta, 


LETTER -WRITING  AND  HYSTERICS    87 

panting  a  little,  "are  you  —  I  fear  you  are 
unwell  yourself.  .You  alarm  me,  my  dear 
young  friend." 

"  I  am  a  brute,"  said  Geoffrey ;  "  a  clumsy, 
unfeeling  brute ! "  He  kissed  her  little  white 
wrinkled  hand;  then,  still  holding  it,  paused 
to  listen.  The  voice  came  up  again  from  the 
place  of  torture. 

"What  shall  I  do?  Oh,  dear!  oh,  dear! 
what  shall  I  do  ? " 

He  pressed  the  glass  in  Miss  Vesta's  hand. 
"  There !  there  !  a  teaspoonful  at  once,  please ; 
but  you  will  be  better  than  medicine.  Tell 
Miss  Blyth  —  tell  her  I  want  very  much  to 
speak  to  her,  please !  Ask  if  she  could  come 
up  .here  now,  this  moment,  just  for  two  or 
three  minutes.  And  you'll  go  down  yourself, 
won't  you,  Miss  Vesta  —  dear  Miss  Vesta  ? " 

He  was  so  absorbed  in  listening  that  he  did 
not  hear  the  creaking  of  Miss  Phoebe's  morocco 
shoes  on  the  stairs;  and  when  she  appeared 


88  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

before  him,  flushed  and  slightly  out  of  breath, 
he  stared  at  the  good  lady  as  if  he  had  never 
seen  her  before. 

"You  wished  to  see  me,  Doctor  Strong?" 
Miss  Phoebe  began.  She  was  half  pleased, 
half  ruffled,  at  being  summoned  in  this  impe 
rious  way. 

"  Yes  —  oh,  yes,"  answered  Geoffrey,  vaguely. 
"  Come  in,  please,  Miss  Blyth.  Won't  you  sit 
down  —  no,  I  wouldn't  sit  near  the  window, 
it's  damp  to-day  (it  was  not  in  the  least 
damp).  Sit  here,  in  my  chair.  Did  you 
know  there  was  a  secret  pocket  in  this  chair  ? 
Very  curious  thing ! " 

"  I  was  aware  of  it,"  said  Miss  Phoebe,  with 
dignity.  "Was  that  what  you  wished  to  say 
to  me,  Doctor  Strong  ? " 

"No  —  oh,  no  (thank  Heaven,  she  has 
stopped!  that  angel  is  with  her).  I  —  I  am 
ashamed  to  trouble  you,  Miss  Blyth,  but  you 
said  you  would  be  so  very  good  as  to  look  over 


LETTEE -WRITING  AND  HYSTERICS    89 

my  shirts  some  day,  and  see  if  they  are  worth 
putting  on  new  collars  and  cuffs.  It's  really  an 
imposition ;  any  time  will  do,  if  you  are  busy 
now.  I  only  thought,  hearing  your  voice  —  " 

"There  is  no  time  like  the  present,"  said 
Miss  Phoebe,  in  her  most  gracious  tone.  "  It 
will  be  a  pleasure,  I  assure  you,  Doctor  Strong, 
to  look  over  any  portions  of  your  wardrobe, 
and  give  you  such  advice  as  I  can.  I  always 
made  my  honoured  father's  shirts  after  my 
dear  mother's  death,  so  I  am,  perhaps,  not 
wholly  unfitted  for  this  congenial  task.  Ah, 
machine-made ! " 

"  Beg  pardon ! "  said  Geoffrey,  who  had  been 
listening  to  something  else. 

"These  shirts  were  made  with  the  aid  of 
the  sewing-machine,  I  perceive,"  said  Miss 
Phcebe.  "  No  —  oh,  no,  it  is  nothing  unusual. 
Very  few  persons,  I  believe,  make  shirts 
entirely  by  hand  in  these  days.  I  always  set 
the  same  number  of  stitches  in  my  father's 


90  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

shirts,  five  thousand  and  sixty.  He  always 
said  that  no  machine  larger  than  a  cambric 
needle  should  touch  his  linen." 

"Then  —  you  don't  think  they  are  worth 
new  collars  ? "  said  Geoffrey,  abstractedly. 

"  Did  I  convey  that  impression  ? "  said  Miss 
Phoebe,  with  mild  surprise.  "  I  had  no  such 
intention,  Doctor  Strong.  I  think  that  a 
skilful  person,  with  some  knowledge  of  needle 
work,  could  make  these  garments  (though 
machine-made)  last  some  months  yet.  You 
see,  Doctor  Strong,  if  she  takes  this  —  " 

It  was  a  neat  and  well-sustained  little  ora 
tion  that  Miss  Phcebe  delivered,  emphasising 
her  remarks  with  the  cuff  of  a  shirt;  but  it 
was  lost  on  Geoffrey  Strong.  He  was  listen 
ing  to  another  voice  that  came  quavering  up 
from  the  garden  below,  a  sweet  high  voice,  like 
a  wavering  thread  of  silver.  No  more  sobs ; 
and  Miss  Vesta  was  singing;  the  sweetest 
song,  Geoffrey  thought,  that  he  had  ever  heard. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

INFORMATION 

THE  next  day  and  the  next  Geoffrey  avoided 
the  garden  as  if  it  were  a  haunt  of  cobras. 
The  dining-room,  too,  was  a  place  of  terror  to 
him,  and  at  each  meal  he  paused  before  enter 
ing  the  room,  nerving  himself  for  what  he 
might  have  to  face.  This  was  wholly  unrea 
sonable,  he  told  himself  repeatedly;  it  was 
ridiculous;  it  was  —  the  young  man  was  not 
one  to  spare  himself  —  it  was  unprofessional. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  all  that,"  he  replied ;  "  but 
they  shouldn't  cry.  There  ought  to  be  a  law 
against  their  crying." 

Here  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  had  seen 
his  cousins  cry  many  times,  and  had  never 

91 


92  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

minded  it ;  but  that  was  entirely  different,  he 
said. 

However,  he  need  not  distress  himself,  it 
appeared;  Vesta  Blyth  kept  her  room  for 
several  days.  At  first  Geoffrey  found  it 
easier  not  to  speak  of  her ;  but  the  third  day 
he  pounced  on  Miss  Vesta  when  she  was  fill 
ing  her  lamp,  and  startled  her  so  that  she 
almost  dropped  her  scissors. 

"Excuse  me,  Miss  Vesta,"  he  said;  "what 
funny  scissors !  I  shouldn't  think  you  could 
cut  anything  with  them.  I  was  going  to  ask 
—  how  is  your  niece  to-day?  I  trust  the 
hysterical  condition  is  passing  away  ? " 

Miss  Vesta  sighed.  "Yes,  Doctor  Strong," 
she  said.  "  Vesta  is  quiet  again,  oh,  yes,  very 
quiet,  and  sleeping  better ;  we  are  very  grate 
ful  for  your  interest  in  her." 

A  few  professional  questions  and  answers 
followed.  There  were  no  acute  or  alarming 
symptoms.  There  was  little  to  do  for  the 


INFORMATION  93 

girl,  except  to  let  her  rest  and  "  come  round ; " 
she  would  recover  in  time,  but  it  might  be  a 
long  time.  Geoffrey  felt  somehow  younger 
than  he  had ;  neurasthenia  was  a  pretty  word 
on  paper,  but  he  did  not  feel  so  sure  about 
making  a  specialty  of  it. 

Miss  Vesta  fluttered  about  her  lamp;  he 
became  conscious  that  she  wanted  to  say  some 
thing  to  him.  She  began  with  sundry  little 
plaintive  murmurings,  which  might  have  been 
addressed  to  him  or  to  the  lamp. 

"Pity!  pity!  yes,  indeed.  So  bright  and 
young,  so  full  of  hope  and  joy,  and  darkened 
so  soon.  Yes,  indeed,  very  sad  ! " 

Geoffrey  helped  her.  "What  is  it,  Miss 
Vesta  ? "  he  asked,  tenderly.  "  You  are  going 
to  tell  me  something." 

Miss  Vesta  looked  around  her  timidly. 
"Sister  Phoebe  did  not  wish  me  to  mention 
it,"  she  said,  in  a  low  tone.  "  She  thinks  it  — 
indelicate.  But  —  you  are  so  kind,  Doctor 


94  GEOFFREY  STBONG 

Strong,  and  you  are  a  physician.  Poor  little 
Vesta  has  had  a  disappointment,  a  cruel  disap 
pointment." 

Geoffrey  murmured  something,  he  hardly 
knew  what.  The  little  lady  hurried  on.  "  It 
is  not  that  I  have  any  sympathy  with  —  I 
never  liked  the  object  —  not  at  all,  I  assure 
you,  Doctor  Strong.  But  her  heart  was  fixed, 
and  she  had  had  every  reason  to  suppose  her 
self —  it  has  been  a  terrible  blow  to  her. 
Eenunciation  —  in  youth  —  is  a  hard  thing, 
my  dear  young  friend,  a  very  hard  thing." 

She  pressed  his  hand,  and  hurried  away 
with  her  scissors,  giving  one  backward  look 
to  make  sure  that  the  lamp  showed  no 
aspect  that  did  not  shine  with  the  last  touch 
of  brilliancy. 

Geoffrey  Strong  went  down  into  the  gar 
den  —  he  had  not  been  there  since  the  day  of 
the  sobbing  —  and  paced  about,  never  think 
ing  of  the  pipe  in  his  pocket.  He  found  him- 


INFORMATION  95 

self  talking  to  the  blue  larkspur.  "Beast!" 
was  what  he  called  this  beautiful  plant. 
"  Dolt !  ass !  inhuman  brute !  If  I  had  the 
kicking  of  you  —  "here  he  recovered  his 
silence;  found  pebbles  to  kick,  and  pursued 
them  savagely  up  one  path  and  down  another. 
A  mental  flash-light  showed  him  the  ruffian 
who  had  wounded  this  bright  creature;  had 
led  her  on  to  love  him,  and  then — either 
betrayed  his  brutal  nature  so  that  hers  rose 
up  in  revolt,  or  —  just  as  likely  —  that  kind 
of  man  would  do  anything  —  gone  off  and  left 
her.  His  picture  revealed  a  smart-looking  per 
son  with  black  hair  and  a  waxed  moustache, 
and  complexion  of  feminine  red  and  white 
(Geoffrey  called  it  beef  and  suet). 

"The  extraordinary  thing  is,  what  women 
see  in  such  a  fellow ! "  he  told  the  syringa. 
The  syringa  drooped,  and  looked  sympathetic. 
The  hammock  was  hanging  there  still  —  poor 
little  thing !  Geoffrey  did  not  mean  the  ham- 


96  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

mock.  He  stood  looking  at  the  place,  and 
winced  as  the  sobs  struck  his  ear  again; 
memory's  ear  this  time,  but  that  was  hardly 
less  keen.  How  terribly  she  grieved!  she 
must  have  cared  for  him  —  bang !  went  the 
pebbles  again. 

There  was  a  rustle  behind  the  syringa-bush. 
Geoffrey  looked  up  and  saw  Vesta  Blyth  stand 
ing  before  him. 

He  could  not  run  away.  He  must  not  look 
at  her  professionally.  Despair  imparted  to  his 
countenance  a  look  of  stony  vacuity  which  sat 
oddly  on  it. 

The  girl  looked  at  him,  and  it  seemed  as  if 
the  shadow  of  a  smile  looked  out  of  her  shad 
owy  eyes.  "I  thought  you  might  be  here, 
Doctor  Strong,"  she  said,  quietly.  "I  am 
coming  in  to  tea  to-night.  I  am  entirely  my 
self  again,  I  assure  you  —  and  first  I  wished  — 
I  want  to  apologise  to  you  for  my  absurd 
behaviour  the  other  day." 


INFORMATION  97 

"  Please  don't ! "  said  Geoffrey. 

"  I  must ;  I  have  to.  I  am  weak,  you  see, 
and  —  I  lost  hold  of  myself,  that  was  all.  It 
was  purely  hysterical,  as  you  of  course  saw. 
I  have  had  —  a  great  trouble.  Perhaps  my 
aunts  may  have  told  you." 

Good  God!  she  wasn't  going  to  talk  about 
it  ?  Geoffrey  thought  a  subterranean  dungeon 
would  be  a  pleasant  place. 

"I  —  yes!"  he  admitted,  feeling  the  red 
curling  around  his  ears.  "  Miss  Vesta  did  say 
something  —  it's  an  infernal  shame !  I  wish 
I  could  tell  you  how  sorry  I  am." 

"  Thank  you ! "  said  the  girl ;  and  a  rich 
note  thrilled  in  her  voice.  Yes  —  it  certainly 
was  like  a  'cello.  "  I  did  not  know  how  you 
would  —  you  are  very  kind,  Doctor  Strong. 
Dear  Aunt  Vesta;  she  would  try  to  make 
the  best  of  it,  I  know.  Aunt  Phoebe  will  not 
speak  of  it,  she  is  too  much  shocked,  but 
Aunt  Vesta  is  angelic." 


98  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

"Indeed  she  is!"  said  the  young  doctor, 
heartily.  "And  she  is  so  pretty,  too,  and  so 
soft  and  creamy;  I  never  saw  any  one  like 
her." 

There  was  a  moment  of  dreadful  silence. 
Geoffrey  sought  desperately  for  a  subject  of 
conversation,  but  the  frivolous  spirit  of  trag 
edy  refused  to  suggest  anything  except  boots, 
and  women  never  understand  boots. 

The  strange  thing  was,  that  the  girl  did 
not  appear  to  find  the  silence  dreadful.  She 
stood  absently  curling  and  uncurling  a  syringa- 
leaf  between  her  long  white  fingers.  All  the 
lines  of  her  were  long,  except  the  curl  of 
her  upper  lip,  and  there  was  not  an  un 
graceful  one  among  them.  Her  face  was 
quietly  sad,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  confu 
sion  in  it.  Good  heavens !  what  were  women 
made  of? 

Presently  she  turned  to  him,  and  again  the 
shadow  of  a  smile  crept  into  her  eyes.  "  You 


INFORMATION  99 

don't  ask  whether  I  am  better,  Doctor  Strong," 
she  said ;  and  there  was  even  a  faint  sugges 
tion  of  mischief  in  her  voice. 

"No!"  said  Geoffrey.  "I  shall  never  ask 
you  that  again." 

The  shadow  turned  to  a  spark.  "You 
might  help  me!"  she  exclaimed.  "At  least 
you  need  not  make  it  harder  for  me  — "  she 
checked  herself,  and  went  on  in  a  carefully 
even  tone.  "  I  am  so  ashamed  of  myself ! " 
she  said.  "  I  thought  when  I  came  here  that 
I  had  quite  got  myself  in  hand ;  the  other  day 
taught  me  a  lesson.  I  was  abominably  rude, 
and  I  beg  your  pardon." 

She  held  out  her  hand  frankly;  Geoffrey 
took  it,  and  was  conscious  that,  though  it  was 
too  cold,  it  had  the  same  quality  that  Miss 
Vesta's  hand  had,  a  touch  like  rose-leaves, 
smooth  and  light  and  dry.  She  shook  hands 
as  if  she  meant  it,  too,  instead  of  giving  a  limp 
flap,  as  some  girls  did.  It  was  impossible  to 


100  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

tell  the  colour  of  her  eyes ;  but  she  was  speak 
ing  again. 

"And  —  I  want  to  say  this,  too.  There 
isn't  anything  to  do  for  me,  you  know;  I 
must  just  wait.  But  —  I  know  how  I  should 
feel  in  your  place;  and  if  there  seem  to  be 
any  interesting  or  unusual  symptoms,  I  will 
tell  you  —  if  you  like?" 

"Thank  you!"  said  Geoffrey.  "It  would 
be  very  good  of  you,  I'm  sure." 

She  turned  to  the  syringa-bush  again,  and 
breaking  off  a  spray,  fastened  it  in  her  white 
gown.  "You  think  of  studying  nerves,  I  be 
lieve  ? "  she  said,  presently.  "  As  a  specialty,  I 
mean.  Well,  they  are  horrible  things."  She 
spoke  abruptly,  and  as  if  half  to  herself.  "  To 
think  of  this  network  of  treachery  spreading 
through  and  through  us,  lying  in  wait  for 
us,  leading  us  on,  buoying  us  up  with  false 
strength,  sham  elasticity  —  and  then  collaps 
ing  like  a  toy  balloon,  leaving  nothing  but  a 


INFORMATION  101 

rag,  a  tatter  of  humanity.  Oh,  it  is  shame 
ful  !  it  is  disgraceful !  Look  at  me !  what  busi 
ness  have  I  with  nerves  ? " 

She  stretched  out  her  long  arms  and  threw 
her  head  back.  The  gesture  was  powerful; 
one  saw  that  strength  was  the  natural  order 
of  life  with  this  lithe,  long-limbed  creature. 
But  the  next  instant  she  drooped  together 
like  a  tired  lily. 

"  I  know  that  is  nonsense ! "  she  said,  mood 
ily.  "I  know  it  just  as  well  as  you  do.  I 
am  tired;  I  think  I'll  go  in  now." 

"Why  not  try  the  hammock?"  Geoffrey 
suggested.  "The  garden  is  better  than  the 
house  to-day.  Or  —  do  you  like  the  water? 
My  canoe  came  yesterday ;  why  not  come  out 
for  a  short  paddle  ? " 

The  girl  looked  at  him  doubtfully.  "I  — 
don't  know!" 

"Best  thing  in  the  world  for  you!"  said 
Geoffrey,  who  had  fully  recovered  his  ease, 


102  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

and  felt  benevolently  professional.  "  You 
ought  to  keep  out-of-doors  all  you  can.  I'll 
get  some  shawls  and  a  pillow." 

Vesta  looked  longingly  out  at  the  water, 
then  doubtfully  again  at  the  young  doctor. 
"  If  you  are  sure  —  "  she  said ;  "  if  you  really 
have  time,  Doctor  Strong.  Your  patients  —  " 

"  Bother  my  patients ! "  said  the  young 
doctor. 

An  hour  later,  Miss  Phoebe  Blyth  was  con 
fronting  a  flushed  and  panting  matron  at  the 
front  door. 

"No,  Mrs.  Worrett,  he  has  not  come  in 
yet.  It  is  past  his  customary  hour,  but  he 
has  been  detained,  no  doubt,  by  some  urgent 
case.  Doctor  Strong  never  spares  himself. 
I  fear  for  him  sometimes,  I  must  coofess. 
Will  you  step  in  and  wait,  or  shall  I  — 
colic  ?  oh !  if  that  is  all,  it  will  hardly  be 
necessary  to  send  the  doctor  out.  I  shall 


IN  FORM  A  TION  103 

take  the  liberty  of  giving  you  a  bottle  of 
my  checkerberry  cordial.  I  have  made  it  for 
forty  years,  and  Doctor  Strong  approves  of  it 
highly.  Give  the  baby  half  a  teaspoonful  in 
a  wine-glass  of  hot  water,  and  repeat  the  dose 
in  an  hour  if  not  relieved.  Not  at  all,  I  beg  of 
you,  Mrs.  Worrett.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  be  able 
to  relieve  the  babe,  as  well  as  to  spare  Doctor 
Strong  a  little.  He  comes  in  quite  exhausted 
sometimes  from  these  long  trips.  Good  even 
ing  to  you,  ma'am." 


CHAPTEE  VII. 

FESTIVITY 

THE  Ladies'  Society  was  to  meet  at  the 
Temple  of  Vesta ;  or,  rather  (since  that  name 
for  the  brick  house  was  known  only  to  the 
old  and  the  young  doctor),  at  the  Blyth  Girls'. 
The  sisters  always  entertained  the  society  once 
a  year,  and  it  was  apt  to  be  the  favourite 
meeting  of  the  season.  It  was  the  peaceful 
pastime  of  two  weeks,  for  Miss  Phoebe  and 
Miss  Vesta,  to  prepare  for  the  annual  festivity, 
by  polishing  the  already  shining  house  to  a 
hardly  imaginable  point  of  brilliant  cleanliness. 
In  the  kitchen  of  the  Temple,  Diploma  Crotty 
ruled  supreme,  as  she  had  ruled  for  twenty 
years.  Miss  Phoebe  was  occasionally  permitted 

104 


FESTIVITY  105 

to  trifle  with  a  jelly  or  a  cream,  but  even  this 
was  upon  sufferance ;  while  if  Miss  Vesta  ever 
had  any  culinary  aspirations,  they  were  put 
down  with  a  high  hand,  and  an  injunction  not 
to  meddle  with  them  things,  but  see  to  her 
parlours  and  her  chaney.  This  injunction, 
backed  by  her  own  spotless  ideals,  was  faith 
fully  carried  out  by  Miss  Vesta.  Miss  Phrebe, 
by  right  of  her  position  as  elder  sister  and 
martyr  to  rheumatism  (though  she  sometimes 
forgot  her  martyrdom  in  these  days),  took 
charge  of  the  upper  class  of  preparation;  ex 
amined  the  lace  curtains  in  search  of  a  possible 
stitch  dropped  in  the  net,  "  did  up  "  the  frilled 
linen  bags  that  formed  the  decent  clothing  of 
the  window-tassels,  the  tidies,  and  the  entire 
stock  of  "  laces  "  owned  by  her  and  her  sister. 
One  could  never  be  sure  beforehand  which 
collar  one  would  want  to  wear  when  the 
evening  came,  and  while  one  was  about  it,  it 
was  as  well  to  do  them  all ;  so  for  many  days 


106  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

the  sewing-room  was  adorned  with  solemn 
bottles  swathed  in  white,  on  which  collars, 
cuffs,  and  scarfs  were  delicately  stitched.  Miss 
Vesta  —  cleaned. 

For  some  days  the  young  doctor  had  been 
conscious  of  a  stronger  odour  than  usual  of 
beeswax  and  rosin.  Also,  the  tiny  room  by 
the  front  door,  which  was  sacred  as  his  office, 
began  to  shine  with  a  kind  of  inward  light 
No  one  was  ever  there  when  he  came  in, — 
no  one,  that  is,  save  the  occasional  patient,  — 
but  he  always  found  that  his  papers  had  as 
sembled  themselves  in  orderly  piles  on  the 
table  where  he  was  wont  to  throw  them; 
that  the  table  itself  had  become  so  glossy 
that  things  slipped  about  or  fell  off  whenever 
he  moved  them;  and  that  no  matter  where 
he  left  his  pipes,  he  always  found  them  ranged 
with  exact  symmetry  on  the  mantel-shelf. 
(If  he  could  have  known  the  affectionate 
terror  with  which  those  delicate  white  old 


FESTIVITY  107 

fingers  touched  the  brown,  fragrant,  masculine 
things !  There  were  four  of  the  pipes,  Zuleika, 
Haidee,  Nourmahal,  and  Scheherezade ;  the 
fellows  used  to  call  them  his  harem,  and  him 
Haroun  Alraschid.) 

Geoffrey  was  always  careful  about  wiping 
his  feet  when  he  came  in;  he  was  a  well- 
brought-up  lad,  and  never  meant  to  leave  a 
speck  on  the  polished  floor.  Now,  however, 
he  was  aware  of  fragrant,  newly  rubbed  spots 
that  appeared  as  if  by  magic  every  time  he 
returned  through  the  entry  after  passing  along 
it.  Several  times  he  saw  a  gray  gown  flutter 
and  disappear  through  a  doorway;  but  it 
might  have  been  Diploma. 

One  day,  however,  —  it  was  the  very  day 
of  the  party,  —  he  chanced  to  come  into  the 
parlour  for  a  match  or  the  like,  and  found 
Miss  Vesta  on  her  knees,  apparently  praying 
to  one  of  the  teak-wood  chairs;  and  the  girl 
Vesta,  white  as  wax,  standing  beside  another, 


108  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

rubbing  it  with  even,  practised  strokes.  The 
young  doctor  looked  from  one  to  the  other. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ? "  he  said.  "  What 
upon  earth  are  you  doing,  you  two  ? " 

Miss  Vesta  looked  up,  pink  and  breath 
less. 

"  My  dear  Doctor  Strong,  I  wish  you  would 
use  your  professional  influence  with  Vesta.  I 
am  making  a  little  preparation,  as  you  see,  for 
this  evening.  It  —  I  take  pleasure  in  it,  and 
find  the  exercise  beneficial.  But  Vesta  is 
entirely  unfit  for  it,  as  I  have  repeatedly 
pointed  out  to  her.  She  persists  —  "  the  little 
lady  paused  for  breath.  The  young  doctor 
took  the  cloth  from  the  girl's  hand,  and  opened 
the  door. 

"You  would  better  go  and  lie  down,  Miss 
Blyth,"  he  said,  abruptly.  « I'll  see  to  this  —  " 
he  said  "  tomfoolery,"  but  not  aloud. 

The  colour  crept  into  Vesta's  white  cheeks, 
the  first  he  had  seen  there.  "  I  don't  want  to 


FESTIVITY  109 

lie  down,  thank  you  ! "  she  said,  coldly.  "  Give 
me  the  cloth,  please ! " 

Their  eyes  measured  swords  for  an  instant. 
Then  — 

"  You  can  hardly  stand  now,"  said  Geoffrey, 
quietly.  "  If  you  faint  I  shall  have  to  carry 
you  up-stairs,  and  that — " 

She  was  gone,  but  he  still  saw  her  face  like 
a  white  flame.  He  looked  after  her  a  moment, 
then  turned  to  Miss  Vesta,  who  was  still  on 
her  knees.  His  look  of  annoyance  changed 
to  one  of  distress.  "Dear  Miss  Vesta,  will 
you  please  get  up  this  moment  ?  What  can 
you  be  doing  ?  Are  you  praying  to  Saint 
Beeswax  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,  Doctor  Strong.  We  never  —  the 
Orthodox  Church  —  but  you  are  jesting,  my 
dear  young  friend.  I  —  a  little  healthful 
exercise  —  oh,  please,  Doctor  Geoffrey ! " 

For  two  strong  hands  lifted  her  bodily,  and 
set  her  down  in  her  own  particular  armchair. 


110  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

"  Exercise  is  recommended  for  me,"  said  the 
little  lady,  piteously.  "  You  yourself,  Doctor 
Geoffrey,  said  I  ought  to  take  more  exercise." 

"So  you  shall  You  shall  dance  all  the 
evening,  if  you  like.  I'll  play  the  fiddle,  and 
you  and  the  minister  —  no,  no,  I  don't  mean 
the  minister!  Don't  look  like  that!  you  and 
Deacon  Weight  shall  dance  together.  It  will 
be  the  elephant  and  the  fl —  butterfly.  But  I 
am  going  to  do  this,  Miss  Vesta." 

He  in  turn  went  down  on  his  knees  to  the 
teak-wood  chair,  and  examined  it  curiously. 
"  Is  this  —  supposed  to  need  cleaning  ? "  he 
asked ;  "  or  is  it  to  be  used  as  a  looking-glass  ? 
Perhaps  you  had  just  finished  this  one  ? "  He 
looked  hopefully  at  Miss  Vesta,  and  saw  her 
face  cloud  with  distress. 

"  I  was  about  to  polish  it  a  little,"  she  said. 
"  It  is  already  clean,  in  a  measure,  but  a  little 
extra  polish  on  such  occasions  —  " 

Geoffrey  did  not  wait  for  more,  but  rubbed 


FESTIVITY  .      Ill 

away  with  might  and  main,  talking  the 
while. 

"  You  see,  Miss  Vesta,  it  is  very  important 
for  me  to  learn  about  these  things.  You  and 
Miss  Phoebe  may  turn  me  out  some  day,  and 
then  the  lonely  bachelor  will  have  to  set  up 
his  own  establishment,  and  cook  his  own 
dinner,  and  polish  his  own  chairs.  Do  you 
think  I  could  cook  a  dinner?  I'll  tell  you 
what  we'll  do,  some  day ;  we'll  send  Diploma 
off  for  a  holiday,  and  I'll  get  the  dinner." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  young  friend,  I  fear  that 
would  not  be  possible.  Diploma  is  so  set  in 
her  ways !  She  will  hardly  let  me  set  foot  in 
the  kitchen,  but  Sister  Phosbe  goes  in  when 
ever  she  pleases.  I  —  I  think  that  chair  is 
as  bright  as  it  can  be,  Doctor  Strong.  I  am 
greatly  obliged  to  you.  It  looks  beautiful, 
and  now  I  need  not  trouble  you  further ;  you 
are  much  occupied,  I  am  sure.  Oh,  pray  — 
pray  give  me  back  the  cloth,  Doctor  Geoffrey." 


112  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

But  Geoffrey  declared  he  had  not  had  such 
fun  for  weeks.  "  Consider  my  biceps,"  he  said. 
"  You  ought  to  consider  my  biceps,  Miss  Vesta." 

He  went  from  chair  to  chair,  Miss  Vesta 
following  him  with  little  plaintive  murmurs, 
in  which  distress  and  admiration  were 
equally  blended;  and  rubbed,  and  rubbed 
again,  till  all  the  room  was  full  of  dark  glory. 
There  was  one  bad  moment,  when  the  weak 
leg  of  the  three-cornered  table  threatened  to 
give  way  under  his  vigorous  attack,  and  pro 
tested  with  a  sharp  squeak  of  anguish;  but 
though  Geoffrey  and  Miss  Vesta  both  examined 
it  with  searching  scrutiny,  no  new  crack  was 
visible.  He  offered  to  bandage  the  old  crack, 
warranting  to  make  the  ailing  leg  the  strongest 
of  the  four ;  but,  on  the  whole,  it  did  not  seem 
necessary. 

"If  only  Deacon  Weight  does  not  lean  on 
it!"  said  Miss  Vesta.  "Perhaps  you  could 
manage  to  stand  near  it  yourself,  Doctor 


FESTIVITY  113 

Geoffrey,  if  you  should  see  the  deacon  ap 
proaching  it.  He  is  apt,  when  engaged  in 
conversation,  to  rest  both  elbows  on  a  table ; 
it  is  a  great  strain  on  any  furniture." 

Geoffrey  looked  a  little  blank.  "  Were  you 
expecting  me  to  join  the  party  ? "  he  asked;  "  I 
thought  —  I  should  be  rather  in  the  way, 
shouldn't  I  ? "  He  read  his  answer  in  the 
piteous  startled  look  of  the  little  lady,  and 
hastened  on  before  she  could  speak.  "  I  didn't 
suppose  I  was  invited,  Miss  Vesta.  Of  course 
I  shall  come,  if  I  may,  with  the  greatest  pleas 
ure." 

"Dear  Doctor  Strong,"  said  Miss  Vesta, 
with  a  happy  sigh,  "  it  would  have  been  such 
a  sad  blow  if  we  must  have  dispensed  with 
your  society." 

It  would  indeed  have  been  a  tragic  disap 
pointment  to  both  sisters  if  their  lodger  had 
not  appeared  on  the  great  occasion.  As  it 
was,  Miss  Vesta  was  fluttered,  and  only  re- 


114  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

stored  to  full  composure  when,  at  tea,  Doctor 
Strong  begged  to  know  the  exact  hour  at 
which  the  guests  were  expected,  that  he  might 
be  ready  on  time. 

The  pride  of  the  good  ladies  knew  no 
bounds  when  Doctor  Strong  entered  the  par 
lour  in  faultless  evening  dress,  with  a  tiny 
blush-rose,  from  Miss  Vesta's  favourite  tree,  in 
his  buttonhole.  Evening  dress  was  becoming 
to  Geoffrey.  The  Ladies'  Society  fluttered  at 
sight  of  him,  and  primmed  itself,  and  shook 
out  its  skirts. 

Geoffrey's  face  was  radiant  over  his  white 
tie.  He  had  planned  a  cosy  evening  in  his 
own  room,  with  a  new  treatise  on  orthopaedics 
that  had  just  come;  but  no  one  would 
have  thought  that  he  took  delight  in  any 
thing  except  Society  meetings.  He  went 
from  group  to  group,  as  if  he  were  the 
son  of  the  house,  cheering  the  forlorn,  light 
ening  the  heavy,  smoothing  down  the  prickly, 


FESTIVITY  115 

• — a  medical  Father  OTlynn.  But  it  was 
the  elderly  and  the  middle-aged  whom  he 
sought  out;  the  matrons  whose  children 
he  had  tended,  the  spinsters  whose  neu 
ralgia  he  had  relieved.  The  few  younger 
members  of  the  Society  bridled  and  simpered 
in  vain;  the  young  doctor  never  looked  their 
way. 

"Good  evening,  Mrs.  Worrett;  sorry  I 
missed  you  the  other  day;  but  Miss  Blyth 
prescribed  for  you,  and  she  is  as  good  a  doctor 
as  I  am,  any  day.  How  is  the  baby  now  ?  quite 
well !  Good ;  Yes ;  oh,  yes,  excellent.  In 
simple  cases  these  mild  carminatives  are  just 
the  thing.  Keep  his  diet  steady,  though, 
while  the  warm  weather  lasts.  I  saw  him 
with  a  doughnut  the  other  day,  and  took  it 
away  from  him;  knew  he  got  it  by  accident, 
of  course.  Yes,  bread  and  milk,  that  kind  of 
thing.  Fine  little  fellow,  and  we  want  him  to 
have  the  best  chance  there  is. 


116  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

"Miss  Wax,  I  ani  glad  to  see  you  here. 
Headache  all  gone,  eh  ?  Hurrah !  I'd  keep  on 
with  those  powders,  though,  if  I  were  you,  for 
a  week  or  two.  You're  looking  fine,  as  the 
Scotch  say.  Hope  you  won't  want  to  see  me 
again  for  a  long  time,  and  it's  very  good  and 
unselfish  of  me  to  say  that,  for  I  haven't  for 
gotten  the  plum-cake  you  gave  me. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Deacon  ?  glad  to  see  you ! 
yes,  glorious  weather."  Here  Geoffrey  moved 
easily  between  Deacon  Weight  and  the  three- 
cornered  table,  which  the  deacon  was  ap 
proaching.  "Suppose  we  stand  here  in  the 
corner  a  moment!  Men  are  always  rather  in 
the  way,  don't  you  think,  at  things  of  this 
kind  ?  Mrs.  Weight  here  to-night  ?  ah !  yes, 
I  see  her.  How  well  she's  looking !  Not  been 
well  yourself,  Deacon?  I'm  sorry  to  hear 
that.  What's  the  —  dyspepsia  again?  that's 
bad.  Have  you  tried  the  light  diet  I  recom 
mended  ?  Well,  I  would,  if  I  were  in  your  place. 


FESTIVITY  117 

I'd  knock  off  two  or  three  pounds  of  your 
usual  diet,  and  get  a  bicycle  —  yes,  you  could. 
A  cousin  of  mine  in  New  York  weighed  three 
hundred  pounds  before  he  got  his  bicycle ;  had 
one  made  to  order,  of  course,  special  weight; 
now  he  weighs  a  hundred  and  seventy-five, 
and  is  as  active  as  a  cat.  Great  thing!  ah, 
excuse  me,  Deacon ! " 

He  crossed  the  room,  and  bowed  low  before 
a  lady  with  white  hair  and  an  amazing  cap, 
who  had  been  gazing  at  him  with  twinkling 
eyes.  This  was  Mrs.  Tree,  the  Misses  Blyths' 
aunt. 

"  Mrs.  Tree,  how  do  you  do  ?  why  were  you 
looking  at  me  in  that  way  ?  I've  been  trying 
to  speak  to  you  all  the  evening,  but  you  have 
been  surrounded.  I  think  it's  a  shame  for  a 
women  over  twenty-five"  (Mrs.  Tree  was 
ninety,  and  immensely  proud  of  her  age)  "  to 
monopolise  all  the  attention.  What  do  you 
think  ? " 


118  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

"  I  think  you're  a  sassy  boy ! "  replied  Mrs. 
Tree,  with  vivacity.  "  I  think  children  should 
speak  when  they're  spoken  to;  that's  what  I 
think" 

She  clicked  some  castanets  in  her  throat, 
which  was  her  way  of  laughing. 

"  But  you  didn't  speak  to  me,"  said  Geoffrey. 
"  You  wouldn't  speak.  Do  you  suppose  I  was 
going  to  wait  all  the  evening  ?  What  a  won 
derful  cap  you've  got,  Mrs.  Tree!  I'm  going 
to  have  one  made  exactly  like  it.  Will  you 
go  in  to  supper  with  me  ?  Do !  I  want  to  cut 
out  the  minister,  and  he  is  coming  to  ask  you 
now.  I  am  much  more  amusing  than  he  is, 
you  know  I  am." 

Mrs.  Tree  did  know  it.  The  minister  was 
waved  off,  and  the  oldest  parishioner  sailed 
in  to  supper  on  Doctor  Strong's  arm. 

"Why  don't  you  get  married,"  she  asked 
on  the  way,  "instead  of  fooling  around  old 
folks  this  way?  If  I  was  your  ma'am,  I'd 


FESTIVITY  119 

find  a  wife  for  ye,  first  thing  I  did.  You're 
too  sassy  to  stay  unmarried." 

"  Miss  Vesta  won't  have  me,"  said  Geoffrey ; 
"  and  I  won't  have  anybody  else,  unless  you 
will  relent,  Mrs.  Tree.  Now,  what  do  you 
want?  lobster  salad?  Well,  I  shall  not  give 
you  that.  If  you  eat  it  you  will  be  ill  to 
morrow,  and  then  Direxia  will  send  for  me, 
and  you  will  throw  my  medicine  out  of  the 
window  and  get  well  without  it,  and  then 
laugh  in  my  face.  I  know  you!  have  some 
escalloped  oysters,  there's  a  dear ! " 

"I  wish't  I'd  come  in  with  the  minister 
now ! "  said  Mrs.  Tree. 

"  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it ! "  said  Geoffrey. 
"  It's  much  less  dangerous  for  you  to  flirt  with 
me,  you  know  it  is;  though  even  now  Miss 
Phoabe  is  looking  at  us  very  seriously,  Mrs. 
Tree,  very  seriously  indeed." 

"If  I  was  Phoebe,  I'd  send  you  to  bed!" 
said  Mrs.  Tree.  "  That's  what  I'd  do ! " 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

REVELATION 

IT  was  a  perfect  evening.  The  water  lay 
like  rosy  glass  under  the  sinking  sun.  Not  a 
breath  of  air  was  stirring,  and  even  on  the 
beach  the  ripple  did  not  break,  merely  whis 
pered  itself  away  in  foam.  The  canoe  moved 
easily,  when  it  did  move,  under  a  practised 
stroke,  but  much  of  the  time  it  lay  at  ease, 
rocking  a  little  now  and  then  as  a  swell  rose 
and  melted  under  it.  Vesta  lay  among  her 
pillows  at  one  end,  and  Geoffrey  faced  her. 
Her  face  was  turned  toward  the  west,  and  he 
wondered  whether  it  was  only  the  sunset  glow 
that  touched  it,  or  whether  the  faint  rosy  flush 
belonged  there.  Certainly  the  waxen  hue  was 
120 


REVELATION  121 

gone;  certainly  the  girl  was  wonderfully  bet 
ter.  But  he  did  not  look  at  her  much,  because 
it  got  into  his  breathing  somehow.  He  had 
not  been  paddling  for  a  year,  and  he  was 
"  soft,"  of  course ;  nothing  surprising  in  that. 

He  was  telling  her  about  some  of  his 
patients.  The  thing  that  did  surprise  him 
was  the  interest  she  seemed  to  take;  active, 
intelligent  interest.  Being  sick  herself,  per 
haps,  gave  her  a  natural  sympathy;  and  she 
certainly  had  extraordinary  intelligence,  even 
insight.  Singular  thing  for  a  girl  to  have ! 

"  But  what  became  of  the  poor  little  fellow  ? 
did  he  live  ?  better  not,  I  am  sure.  I  hope  he 
did  not." 

"  Yes ;  almost  a  pity,  but  he  did  live.  Got 
well,  too,  after  a  fashion,  but  he'll  never  be 
able  to  do  anything." 

The  girl  was  silent.  Presently  —  "I  wonder 
whether  it  is  worth  while  to  get  well  after  a 
fashion!"  she  said.  "I  wonder  if  it's  worth 


122  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

while  to  go  on  living  and  never  be  able  to  do 
anything,  I  suppose  I  shall  find  out." 

"  You ! "  said  the  young  doctor.  "  You  will 
be  entirely  well  in  a  year,  Miss  Blyth ;  I'd  be 
willing  to  wager  it." 

Vesta  shook  her  head. 

"  No ! "  she  said.  "  The  spring  is  broken. 
There  is  nothing  real  the  matter  with  me,  I 
know  that  well  enough.  It's  nothing  but 
nerves  —  and  heart,  and  mind;  nothing  but 
the  whole  of  my  life  broken  and  thrown 
aside." 

She  spoke  bitterly,  and  Geoffrey  felt  a  pang 
of  compassion.  She  was  so  young,  and  so 
pretty  —  beautiful  was  the  word,  rather.  It 
seemed  too  cruel  If  only  she  would  not  say 
anything  more  about  it !  How  could  she  ?  was 
it  because  he  was  a  physician  ?  He  would  go 
and  be  a  costermonger  if  that  — 

"  You  see,"  she  went  on,  slowly ;  "  I  cared  so 
tremendously.  I  had  thought  of  nothing  else 


REVELATION  123 

for  years,  dreamed  of  nothing  else.  All  there 
was  of  me  went  into  it.  And  then,  then  — 
when  this  came;  when  he  told  me  —  I  —  it 
was  pretty  hard." 

The  quiver  in  her  voice  was  controlled  in 
stantly,  but  it  was  almost  worse  than  the  sobs. 
Geoffrey  broke  out,  fiercely : 

"  I  don't  know  whether  this  man  is  more  a 
beast  or  a  devil ;  but  I  know  that  he  is  not  fit 
to  live,  and  I  wish  I  —  " 

Vesta  looked  up  at  him  in  surprise.  His 
face  was  crimson;  his  angry  eyes  looked  be 
yond  her,  above  her,  anywhere  except  at 
her. 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean!"  she  said. 
"He  was  neither.  He  was  kind,  oh,  very 
kind.  He  did  it  as  tenderly  as  possible.  I 
shall  always  be  grateful  — "  the  quiver  came 
again,  and  she  stopped. 

"  Oh  ! "  cried  Geoffrey.  He  drove  his  pad 
dle  savagely  into  the  water,  and  the  canoe 


124  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

leaped  forward.  What  were  women  made  of  ? 
why,  why  must  he  be  subjected  to  this  ? 

The  silence  that  followed  was  almost  worse 
than  the  speech.  Finally  he  stole  a  glance  at 
his  companion,  and  saw  her  face  still  faintly 
rosy  —  it  must  be  mostly  the  light  —  and  set 
in  a  sadness  that  had  no  touch  of  resentment 
in  it. 

"Perhaps  you  don't  like  my  talking  about 
it,"  she  said,  after  awhile. 

Geoffrey  uttered  an  inarticulate  murmur, 
but  found  no  words. 

"  The  aunties  don't.  Aunt  Phoebe  gets  angry, 
and  Aunt  Vesta  tearful  and  embarrassed.  But 
—  well,  I  could  not  stay  at  home.  Every 
thing  there  reminded  me  —  I  thought  if  I 
came  here,  where  no  such  ideas  ever  entered, 
I  might  begin  —  not  to  forget,  but  to  resign 
myself  a  little,  after  a  time.  But  —  I  found 
you  here.  No,  let  me  speak ! "  She  raised 
her  hand,  as  Geoffrey  tried  to  interrupt. 


REVELATION  125 

"I  have  to  make  you  understand  —  if  I 
can  —  why  I  was  rude  and  odious  and  un 
grateful  when  I  first  came,  for  I  was  all  those 
things,  and  I  am  not  naturally  so,  I  truly  don't 
think  I  am.  But,  don't  you  see?  —  to  come 
right  upon  some  one  who  was  having  all  that 
I  had  lost,  enjoying  all  I  had  hoped  to  enjoy, 
and  caring  —  well,  perhaps  as  much  as  I 
cared,  but  still  in  a  different  way,  a  man's 
way,  taking  it  all  as  a  matter  of  course,  where 
I  would  have  taken  it  on  my  knees  —  " 

"  You  must  let  me  speak  now,  Miss  Blyth," 
said  Geoffrey  Strong.  He  spoke  loud  and 
quickly,  to  drown  the  noise  in  his  ears. 

"  I  cannot  let  you  —  go  on  —  under  such  a 
total  misapprehension.  I  could  not  in  a  life 
time  say  how  sorry  I  am  for  your  cruel  trouble. 
It  makes  me  rage;  I'd  like  to  —  never  mind 
that  now !  but  you  are  wholly  mistaken  in 
thinking  that  anything  of  the  kind  has  ever 
come  into  my  own  life.  I  don't  know  how 


126  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

you  received  the  impression,  but  you  must 
believe  me  when  I  say  I  have  never  had  any 
—  any  such  affair,  nor  the  shadow  of  one.  It 
isn't  my  line.  I  not  only  never  have  had,  but 
probably  never  shall  have  —  "  he  was  hurrying 
out  word  upon  word,  hoping  to  get  it  over  and 
done  with  once  and  for  ever.  But  letting  his 
eyes  drop  for  an  instant  to  the  girl's  face,  he  saw 
on  it  a  look  of  such  unutterable  amazement 
that  he  stopped  short  in  his  headlong  speech. 

They  gazed  at  each  other  from  alien  worlds. 
At  length  — "  Doctor  Strong,"  said  Vesta,  and 
the  words  dropped  slowly,  one  by  one,  "  what 
do  you  mean  ? " 

Geoffrey  was  silent.  If  she  did  not  know 
what  he  meant,  he  certainly  did  not. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  repeated.  "  I 
do  not  understand  one  word  of  what  you  are 
saying." 

Geoffrey  tried  •  hard  to  keep  his  temper. 
"You  were  speaking  of  your  —  disappoint- 


REVELATION  127 

ment,"  he  said,  stiffly.  "  You  seemed  to  take 
it  for  granted  that  I  —  was  engaged  in  some 
affair  of  a  similar  nature,  and  I  felt  bound 
to  undeceive  you.  I  have  never  been  what  is 
called  in  love  in  my  life." 

The  bewilderment  lingered  in  Vesta's  eyes 
for  an  instant;  then  a  light  came  into  them. 
The  sunset  rushed  in  one  crimson  wave  over 
face  and  neck  and  brow;  she  fell  back  on  her 
pillows,  quivering  from  head  to  foot.  Was  she 
going  to  cry  again  ? 

She  was  laughing!  silently  at  first,  trying 
hard  to  control  herself ;  but  now  the  laughter 
broke  forth  in  spite  of  her,  and  peal  after  peal 
rang  out,  wild  and  sweet,  helpless  in  its  inten 
sity. 

Geoffrey  sat  paralysed  a  moment ;  then  the 
professional  instinct  awoke.  "Hysteria!  an 
other  manifestation,  that  is  all.  I  must  stop 
it." 

He  leaned  forward. 


128  GEOFFREY  STBONG 

"  Miss  Blyth ! " 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha ! "  laughed  the  girl.  "  Oh,  dear, 
oh,  dear !  what  shall  I  do?  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha !  oh, 
what  shall  I  do  ?  " 

" Stop ! "  said  Geoffrey  Strong.  "Do  you 
hear  me  ?  stop ! " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  hear  you  —  but  —  it  is  so  funny ! 
oh,  it  is  so  funny !  ha,  ha,  ha !  what  shall  I 
do?" 

"What  shall  /do?"  said  Geoffrey  to  him 
self.  "  She'll  have  the  canoe  over  in  another 
minute."  He  crept  toward  the  girl,  and  seized 
her  wrists  in  a  firm  grip. 

"Be  still!"  he  said.  "I  shall  hold  you 
until  you  are  quiet.  Be  —  still !  no  more ! 
be  still!" 

"  You  —  hurt  me !"  whispered  the  girl.  The 
wild  laughter  had  died  away,  but  she  was  still 
shaking,  and  the  tears  were  running  down  her 
cheeks. 

"I  mean  to  hurt   you.     I  shall  hurt  you 


REVELATION  129 

more,  if  you  are  not  quiet.  As  soon  as  you 
are  quiet  I  will  let  you  go.  Be  —  still  —  still 
—  there ! " 

He  loosed  her  hands,  and  took  up  the  paddle 
again.  This  kind  of  thing  was  very  exhaust 
ing;  he  was  quivering  himself,  quite  percep 
tibly.  Now  why  ?  nerves  of  sympathy  ? 

He  paddled  on  in  silence;  the  sun  went 
down,  and  the  afterglow  spread  and  bright 
ened  along  the  sky.  He  hardly  thought 
of  his  companion,  his  whole  mind  bent  on 
suppressing  the  turmoil  that  was  going  on  in 
himself. 

He  started  at  the  sound  of  her  voice;  it 
was  faint,  but  perfectly  controlled. 

"  Doctor  Strong ! " 

"MissBlyth!" 

"  You  —  thought  —  I  had  had  a  disappoint 
ment  in  love  ? " 

"I  did!" 

"You   are   mistaken.     You    misunderstood 


130  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

my  aunt,  or  me,  or  both.  I  have  never,  any 
more  than  you  —  " 

Her  voice  grew  stronger,  and  she  sat  up 
right. 

"  It  was  so  very  funny  —  no,  I  am  not  going 
off  again  —  but  I  think  there  was  some  excuse 
for  me  this  time.  You  certainly  are  having 
every  opportunity  of  studying  my  case,  Doctor 
Strong.  The  truth  is  —  oh,  I  supposed  it  had 
been  made  clear  to  you ;  how  could  I  suppose 
anything  else?  It  was  my  career,  my  life, 
that  I  had  to  give  up,  not  —  not  a  man.  You 
say  you  have  never  been  what  is  called  in  love ; 
Doctor  Strong,  no  more  have  1 1 " 

There  was  silence,  and  now  it  was  in  Geof 
frey's  face  that  the  tide  rose.  Such  a  burning 
tide  it  was,  he  fancied  he  heard  the  blood  hiss 
as  it  curled  round  the  roots  of  his  hair.  He 
noted  this  as  curious,  and  remembered  that  in 
hanging  or  drowning  it  was  the  trifles  that 
stamped  themselves  upon  the  mind.  Also,  it 


REVELATION  131 

appeared  that  lie  was  hollow,  with  nothing 
but  emptiness  where  should  have  been  his 
vital  parts. 

"  Shall  I  say  anything  ? "  he  asked,  presently. 
"  There  isn't  anything  to  say,  is  there,  except 
to  beg  your  pardon  ?  would  you  like  to  hear 
that  I  am  a  fool  ?  but  you  know  that  already. 
Your  aunt  —  things  were  said  that  were  curi 
ously  misleading  —  not  that  that  is  any  ex 
cuse —  Do  you  want  me  to  go  into  detail, 
or  may  I  drown  myself  quietly  ? " 

"  Oh !  don't,"  said  Vesta,  smiling.  "  I  could 
not  possibly  paddle  myself  home,  and  I  should 
infallibly  upset  the  canoe  in  trying  to  rescue 
you." 

"  You  would  not  try  ! "  said  Geoffrey,  gloom 
ily.  "  It  would  not  be  human  if  you  tried." 

"It  would  be  professional,"  said  Vesta. 
"Come,  Doctor  Strong,  you  see  I  can  laugh 
about  it,  and  you  must  laugh,  too.  Let  us 
shake  hands,  and  agree  to  forget  all  about  it." 


132  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

Geoffrey  shook  hands,  and  said  she  was 
very  magnanimous ;  but  he  still  felt  hollow. 
The  only  further  remark  that  his  seething 
brain  presented  was  a  scrap  of  ancient  dog 
gerel  : 

"  I  wish.  I  was  dead, 
Or  down  at  Owl's  Head, 
Or  anywhere  else  but  here  I " 

This  was  manifestly  inappropriate,  so  he 
kept  silence,  and  paddled  on  doggedly. 

"And  aren't  you  going  to  ask  what  my 
disappointment  really  was?"  inquired  Vesta, 
presently.  "  But  perhaps  you  have  guessed  ? " 

No,  Geoffrey  had  not  guessed. 

"  Don't  you  want  to  know  ?  I  should  really 
—  it  would  be  a  comfort  to  me  to  talk  it  over 
with  you,  if  you  don't  mind." 

Geoffrey  would  be  delighted  to  hear  any 
thing  that  she  chose  to  tell  him. 

"Yes,  you  seem  delighted.  Well  —  you 
gee,  you  have  not  understood,  not  understood 


REVELATION  133 

in  the  very  least ;  and  now  in  a  moment  you 
are  going  to  know  all  about  it."  She  paused 
for  a  moment,  and  there  was  an  appeal  in  her 
clear,  direct  gaze ;  but  Geoffrey  did  not  want 
to  be  appealed  to. 

"  I  was  at  Johns  Hopkins,"  said  Yesta.  "  It 
was  the  beginning  of  my  second  year ;  I  broke 
down,  and  had  to  give  it  up.  I  was  studying 
medicine  myself,  Doctor  Strong." 

"  Oh ! "  cried  Geoffrey  Strong. 

The  exclamation  was  a  singular  one ;  a  long 
cry  of  amazement  and  reprobation.  Every 
fibre  of  the  man  stiffened,  and  he  sat  rigid,  a 
statue  of  Disapproval 

"  I  beg  your  pardon ! "  he  said,  after  a  mo 
ment.  "  I  said  it  before,  but  I  don't  know  that 
there  is  anything  else  to  say.  No  doubt  I 
was  very  stupid,  yet  I  hardly  know  how  I 
could  have  supposed  just  this  to  be  the 
truth.  I — -no!  I  beg  your  pardon.  That 
is  all" 


134  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

The  girl  looked  keenly  at  him.  "You  are 
not  sorry  for  me  any  more,  are  you  ? "  she 
said. 

Geoffrey  was  silent. 

"  You  were  sorry,  very  sorry ! "  she  went  on. 
"So  long  as  you  thought  I  had  lost  that 
precious  possession,  a  lover;  had  lost  the  di 
vine  privilege  of  —  what  is  the  kind  of  thing 
they  say  ?  merging  my  life  in  another's,  be 
coming  the  meek  and  gentle  helpmeet  of  my 
God-given  lord  and  master  —  you  were  very 
sorry.  I  could  not  make  it  out;  it  was  so 
unlike  what  I  expected  from  you.  It  was 
so  human,  so  kind,  so  —  yes,  so  womanlike. 
But  fhi  moment  you  find  it  is  not  a  man,  but 
only  the  aspiration  of  a  lifetime,  the  same 
aspiration  that  in  you  is  right  and  fitting  and 
beautiful  —  you  —  you  sit  there  like  a  — 
lamp-post  —  and  disapprove  of  me." 

"  I  am  sorry ! "  said  Geoffrey.  He  was  try 
ing  hard  to  be  reasonable,  and  said  to  himself 


EEVELATION  135 

that  he  would  not  be  irritated,  come  what 
might.  "I  cannot  approve  of  women  study 
ing  medicine,  but  I  am  sorry  for  you,  Miss 
Blyth." 

Her  face,  which  had  been  bitter  enough  in 
its  set  and  scornful  beauty,  suddenly  melted 
into  a  bewildering  softness  of  light  and  laugh 
ter.  She  leaned  forward.  "  But  it  was  funny ! " 
she  said.  "It  was  very,  very  funny,  Doctor 
Strong,  you  must  admit  that.  You  were  so 
compassionate,  so  kind,  thinking  me  —  " 

"  Do  you  think  perhaps  —  but  never  mind ! 
you  certainly  have  the  right  to  say  whatever 
you  choose,"  said  Geoffrey,  holding  himself 
carefully. 

"And  all  the  time,"  she  went  on,  "I  utterly 
unconscious,  and  only  fretting  because  I  could 
not  have  my  own  life,  my  own  will,  my  own 
way!" 

"  By  Jove ! "  said  Geoffrey,  starting.  "  That 
—  that's  what  I  say  myself ! " 


136  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

"Beally!"  said  Vesta,  dryly.  "You  see  I 
also  am  human,  after  all" 

"  Do  you  see  little  Vesta  anywhere,  sister  ? " 
asked  Miss  Phoebe  Blyth. 

Miss  Vesta  had  just  lighted  her  lamp,  and 
was  standing  with  folded  hands,  in  her  usual 
peaceful  attitude  of  content,  gazing  out  upon 
the  sunset  sea.  A  black  line  lay  out  there 
on  the  rosy  gold  of  the  water ;  she  had  been 
watching  it,  watching  the  rhythmic  flash 
of  the  paddle,  and  thinking  happy,  gentle 
thoughts,  such  as  old  ladies  of  tender  heart 
often  think.  Miss  Phoebe  had  no  part  in 
these  thoughts,  and  Miss  Vesta  looked  hur 
riedly  round  at  the  sound  of  her  crisp  utter 
ance.  Her  breath  fluttered  a  little,  but  she 
did  not  speak.  Miss  Phoebe  came  up  behind 
her  and  peered  out  of  the  window.  "  I  don't 
see  where  the  child  can  be,"  she  said,  rather 
querulously.  "I  thought  she  was  in  the  gar- 


EEVELATION  137 

den,  but  I  don't  —  do  you  see  her  anywhere, 
Vesta  ? " 

Miss  Vesta  had  never  read  the  "Pickwick 
Papers ; "  she  considered  Dickens  vulgar ;  but 
her  conduct  at  this  moment  resembled  that  of 
Samuel  Weller  on  a  certain  noted  occasion. 
Eaising  her  eyes  to  the  twilight  sky,  Miss 
Vesta  said,  gently,  "No,  Sister  Phoebe,  I  do 
not!" 


CHAPTEE   IX. 

SIDE   LIGHTS 

«ELMERTON,  June  20,  1900. 

"  DEAR  JIM  :  —  It  is  rather  curious  that  you 
should  have  written  me  this  particular  letter  at  this 
particular  time.  <  Give  me  a  man's  coincidences 
and  I'll  give  you  his  life  ! '  Who  is  it  says  that  ? 

"  You  want  my  opinion  about  women's  studying 
medicine  ;  you  personally  have  reason  to  think  that 
the  career  of  medicine  is  not  incompatible  with  true 
womanliness,  exquisite  refinement,  perfect  grace  and 
breeding.  I  really  cannot  copy  your  whole  letter.  The 
symptoms  are,  alas,  only  too  familiar  I  You  have  met 
your  Fate  again  (and  those  foolish  old  Greeks  used 
to  believe  there  were  only  three  of  'em !)  and  she 
is  a  doctor,  or  is  going  to  be  one.  Well  —  it's  curious, 
as  I  said,  for  it  happens  that  I  have  been  thinking 
more  or  less  about  the  same  matter.  I  used  to  feel 
very  strongly  about  it  —  hang  it,  I  still  feel  very 
138 


SIDE  LIGHTS  139 

strongly  about  it !  A  girl  doesn't  know  what  she  is 
doing  when  she  goes  into  medicine.  I  grant  that 
she  does  it,  in  many  cases,  from  the  highest  possible 
motives.  I  grant  that  she  is  far  ahead  of  most  men 
in  her  ideas  of  the  profession,  and  what  it  means,  or 
ought  to  mean.  But,  all  the  same,  she  doesn't  know 
what  she  is  going  in  for,  and  I  cannot  conceive  of  a 
man's  letting  any  woman  he  cares  for  go  on  with 
it.  She  must  lose  something ;  she  must,  I  tell  you ; 
she  cannot  help  it.  And  even  if  it  isn't  the  essen 
tial  things,  still  it  changes  her.  She  is  less  woman, 
less  —  whatever  you  choose  to  call  it.  A  coarser 
touch  has  come  upon  her,  and  she  is  changed.  Well, 
I  say  I  believe  all  this,  and  I  do,  with  all  my  soul ; 
and  yet,  as  you  say,  it's  cruel  hard  for  a  young  crea 
ture,  all  keyed  up  to  a  pitch  of  enthusiasm  and 
devotion  and  noble  aspiration,  to  be  checked  like  a 
boy's  kite,  and  brought  down  to  the  ground  and  told 
to  mind  her  seam.  It's  cruel  hard,  I  can  see  that ; 
I  can  feel  and  sympathise  intensely  with  all  that 
part  of  it,  and  honour  the  purpose  and  the  spirit, 
even  though  I  cannot  approve  of  the  direction. 

"  Oh,  glancing  at  your  letter  again,  I  see  that  in 
your  friend's  case  everything  seems  to  be  going  on 
smoothly.  Well,  the  principle  remains  the  same.  I 
suppose — I  seem  to  have  drifted  away  from  your 


140  GEOFFEEY  STRONG 

question,  somehow  —  I  suppose  one  woman  in  ten 
thousand  may  make  a  good  physician.  I  suppose 
that  this  ten -thousandth  woman  —  a  woman  who  is 
all  that  you  say  —  may  be  justified,  perhaps,  in 
becoming  a  physician  ;  whether  a  woman  physician 
can  remain  all  that  you  say  —  ah !  that  is  the  ques 
tion  1  Man  alive,  am  I  Phoebus  Apollo,  that  I  should 
know  the  answers  to  all  the  questions  ?  I  wish  I 
could  find  the  way  to  Delphi  myself. 

"  But  don't  get  the  idea  that  you  bore  me  with 
your  confidences,  old  man.  Did  I  say  so?  on  the 
contrary,  tell  me  all  you  can;  it  interests  me  ex 
tremely.  I  am  thinking  about  these  matters  —  path 
ologically —  a  good  deal.  A  physician  has  to,  of 
course.  Tell  me  how  you  feel,  how  it  takes  you. 
Do  you  find  it  gets  into  your  breathing  sometimes, 
like  rarefied  air  ?  Curious  sensation,  rarefied  air  — 
I  remember  it  on  Mont  Blanc. 

"  What  am  I  doing?  Man,  I  am  practising  medi 
cine  !  Cases  at  present,  one  typhoid,  two  tonsilitis, 
five  measles,  eight  dyspepsia,  six  rheumatism,  et  id 
gen.  om,,  one  cantankerousness  (she  calls  it  depres 
sion),  one  gluttony,  one  nerves.  Pretty  busy,  but 
my  wheel  keeps  me  in  good  trim.  I  have  been 
paddling  more  or  less,  too,  to  keep  chest  and  arms, 
up  with  the  rest  of  the  procession. 


SIDE  LIGHTS  141 

"  The  old  ladies  are  as  dear  as  ever ;  if  I  am  not 
wholly  spoilt,  it  will  not  be  their  fault,  bless  their 
kind  hearts  I  The  niece  is  better,  I  think. 

"  Good-bye,  old  man  1  write  again  soon,  and  tell 
me  more  about  Amaryllis.  How  pretty  the  classical 
names  are :  Chloe,  Lalage,  Diana,  Vesta.  I  was 
brought  up  on  Fannies  and  Minnies  and  Lotties, 
with  Eliza  for  a  change.  Horrible  name,  Eliza  ! 

"  GEOFF." 

The  young  doctor  had  just  posted  the  above 
letter,  and  was  sauntering  along  the  street  on 
his  way  home.  It  lacked  an  hour  of  tea- 
time,  and  he  was  wondering  which  of  several 
things  he  should  do.  There  was  hardly  time 
for  a  paddle;  besides,  Vesta  Blyth  had  gone 
for  a  drive  with  the  minister's  daughter. 
Geoffrey  did  not  think  driving  half  as  good 
for  her  as  being  on  the  water.  He  must  con 
trive  to  get  through  his  afternoon  calls  earlier 
to-morrow.  He  might  stop  and  see  how 
Tommy  Candy  was,  —  no !  there  was  Tommy, 
sitting  by  the  roadside,  pouring  sand  over  his 


142  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

head  from  a  tin  cup.  He  was  all  right,  then ; 
the  young  doctor  thought  he  would  be  if  they 
stopped  dosing  him,  and  fed  him  like  a  Chris 
tian  for  a  day  or  two.  Well,  —  there  was  no 
one  else  who  could  not  wait  till  morning. 
Why  should  he  not  go  and  call  on  Mrs.  Tree  ? 
here  he  was  at  the  house.  It  was  the  hour 
when  in  cities  the  sophisticated  clustered 
about  five  o'clock  tea-tables,  and  tested  the 
comfort  of  various  chairs,  and  indulged  in  talk 
as  thin  as  the  china  and  bread  and  butter. 
Five  o'clock  tea  was  unknown  in  Elmerton, 
but  Mrs.  Tree  would  be  glad  to  see  him,  and 
he  always  enjoyed  a  crack  with  her. 

He  turned  in  at  the  neat  gate.  The  house 
stood  well  back  from  the  street,  in  the  trim 
mest  and  primmest  little  garden  that  ever  was 
seen.  Most  of  the  shrubs  were  as  old  as  their 
owner,  and  had  something  of  her  wrinkled 
sprightliness ;  and  the  annuals  felt  their  re 
sponsibilities,  and  tried  to  live  up  to  the 


SIDE  LIGHTS  143 

York  and  Lancaster  rose  and  the  strawberry 
bush. 

The  door  was  opened  by  a  Brownie,  dis 
guised  in  a  cap  and  apron.  This  was  Direxia 
Hawkes,  aunt  to  Diploma  Grotty.  In  his 
mind  Geoffrey  had  christened  the  little  house 
the  Aunt's  Nest,  but  he  never  dared  to  tell 
anybody  this. 

"Well,  Direxia,  how  is  Mrs.  Tree  to-day? 
would  she  like  to  see  me,  do  you  think  ? " 

" She  ain't  no  need  to  see  you!" 

The  young  doctor  looked  grieved,  and 
turned  away. 

"But  I  expect  she'd  be  pleased  to.  Step 
in!" 

This  was  Direxia's  one  joke,  and  she  never 
tired  of  it ;  no  more  did  Geoffrey.  He  entered 
the  cool  dim  parlour,  which  smelt  of  red  cedar ; 
the  walls  were  panelled  with  it.  The  floor 
was  of  polished  oak,  dark  with  age;  the 
chairs  and  tables  were  of  rare  foreign  woods, 


144  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

satin  and  leopard  wood,  violet- wood  and  ebony. 
The  late  Captain  Tree  had  been  a  man  of 
fancy,  and,  sailing  on  many  seas,  never  forgot 
his  name,  but  bought  precious  woods  wherever 
he  found  them. 

"Here's  the  doctor!"  said  Direxia.  "I  ex 
pect  he'll  keep  right  on  coming  till  he  finds 
you  sick." 

"That's  what  he  will  do!"  said  Geoffrey. 
"No  chance  for  me  to-day,  though,  I  see. 
How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Tree?  I  think  it  is 
hardly  respectable  for  you  to  look  so  well. 
Can't  you  give  me  one  little  symptom?  not 
a  tiny  crick  in  your  back  ?  you  ought  to  have 
one,  sitting  in  that  chair." 

Mrs.  Tree  was  sitting  bolt  upright  in  an 
ancient  straight-backed  chair  of  curious  work 
manship.  It  was  too  'high  for  her,  so  her 
little  feet,  of  which  she  was  inordinately  vain, 
rested  on  a  hassock  of  crimson  tapestry.  She 
wore  white  silk  stockings,  and  slippers  of  cin- 


SIDE  LIGHTS  145 

namon-coloured  satin  to  match  her  gown.  A 
ruffled  black  silk  apron,  a  net  kerchief  pinned 
with  a  quaint  diamond  brooch,  and  a  cap  sug 
gesting  the  Corinthian  Order,  completed  her 
costume.  Her  face  was  netted  close  with  fine 
wrinkles,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  age  in  her 
bright  dark  eyes. 

"Never  you  trouble  yourself  about  my 
cheer ! "  said  the  old  lady  with  some  sever 
ity.  "Sit  down  in  one  yourself  —  there  are 
plenty  of  lolloping  ones  if  your  back's  weak  — 
and  tell  me  what  mischief  you  have  been  up 
to  lately.  I  wouldn't  trust  you  round  the 
corner." 

"  You'll  break  my  heart  some  day,"  said 
Geoffrey,  with  a  heavy  sigh ;  "  and  then  you 
will  be  sorry,  Mrs.  Tree.  Mischief?  Let  me 
see  !  I  set  Jim  Arthur's  collar-bone  this  morn 
ing;  do  you  care  about  Jim  Arthur?  he  fell 
off  his  bicycle  against  a  stone  wall." 

"  Serve   him   right,   too ! "  said   Mrs.    Tree. 


146  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

"  Hiding  that  nasty  thing,  running  folks  down 
and  scaring  their  horses.  I'd  put  'em  all  in 
the  bonfire-pile  if  I  was  Town  Council.  Your 
turn  will  come  some  day,  young  man,  for  all 
you  go  spinning  along  like  a  spool  of  cotton. 
How's  the  girls?" 

She  rang  the  bell,  and  Direxia  appeared. 

"  Bring  the  cake  and  sherry ! "  she  said. 
"  It's  a  shame  to  spoil  boys,  but  when  they're 
spoilt  already,  there's  less  harm  done.  How's 
the  girls?" 

Geoffrey  reported  a  clean  bill  of  health, 
so  far  as  Miss  Phoebe  and  Miss  Vesta  were 
concerned.  "I  really  am  proud  of  Miss 
Phosbe!"  he  said.  "She  says  she  feels  ten 
years  younger  than  she  did  three  months  ago, 
and  I  think  it's  true." 

"Phoebe  has  no  call  to  feel  ten  years 
younger!"  said  Mrs.  Tree,  shortly.  "She's 
a  very  .  suitable  age  as  it  is.  I  don't  like 
to  see  a  cat  play  kitten,  any  more  than 


SIDE  LIGHTS  147 

I  like  to  see  a  kitten  play  cat.  How's  the 
child?" 

"I  should  like  to  see  Miss  Phoebe  playing 
kitten  ! "  said  Geoffrey,  his  eyes  dancing.  "  It 
would  be  something  to  remember.  What 
child,  Mrs.  Tree  ? " 

"  The  little  girl ;  little  Vesta.  Is  she  com 
ing  out  of  her  tantrums,  think  ? " 

"She  —  is  a  great  deal  better,  certainly," 
said  Geoffrey.  "  I  hope  —  I  feel  sure  that  she 
will  recover  entirely  in  time.  But  you  must 
not  call  her  trouble  tantrums,  Mrs.  Tree,  really. 
Neurasthenia  is  a  recognised  form  of  —  " 

"  You  must  have  looked  quite  pretty  when 
you  was  short-coated!"  said  the  old  lady, 
irrelevantly.  "  Have  some  wine  ?  the  cake  is 
too  rich  for  you,  but  you  may  have  just  a 
crumb." 

"  You  must  have  been  the  wickedest  thing 
alive  when  you  were  eighteen ! "  said  Geoffrey, 
pouring  out  the  amber  sherry  into  a  wonder- 


148  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

ful  gilt  glass.  "  I  wish  Direxia  would  stay  in 
the  room  and  matronise  me ;  I'm  afraid,  I  tell 
you." 

"If  Direxia  had  nothing  better  to  do,  I'd 
send  her  packing,"  said  Mrs.  Tree.  "  Here ! " 

They  touched  glasses  solemnly. 

"  Wishing  you  luck  in  a  wife ' "  said  the  old 
lady. 

"  Good  gracious ! "  cried  Geoffrey. 

"  It's  what  you  need,  young  man,  and  you'd 
better  be  looking  out  for  one.  There  must  be 
some  one  would  have  you,  and  any  wife  is 
better  than  none." 

She  looked  up,  though  not  at  Geoffrey,  and 
a  twinkle  came  into  her  eyes.  "  Do  you  call 
little  Vesta  pretty,  now  ? "  she  asked. 

"Not  pretty,"  said  Geoffrey;  "that  is  not 
the  word.  I  —  " 

"Then  you'd  better  not  call  her  anything," 
said  Mrs.  Tree,  "for  -she's  in  the  door  behind 
ye." 


SIDE  LIGHTS  149 

Geoffrey  started  violently,  and  turned  around. 
Vesta  was  standing  framed  in  the  dark  door 
way.  The  clear  whiteness  of  her  beauty  had 
never  seemed  more  wonderful.  The  faint  rose 
in  her  cheeks  only  made  the  white  more  radi 
ant;  her  eyes  were  no  longer  agate-like,  but 
soft  and  full  of  light ;  only  her  smile  remained 
the  same,  shadowy,  elusive,  a  smile  in  a  dream. 

When  the  young  doctor  remembered  his 
manners  and  rose  to  his  feet  —  after  all,  it 
was  only  a  moment  or  two  —  he  saw  that 
Miss  Vesta  was  standing  behind  her  niece,  a 
little  gray  figure  melting  into  the  gloom  of  the 
twilight  hall.  The  two  now  entered  the  room 
together. 

"Aunt  Vesta  wanted  you  to  see  my  new 
hat,  Aunt  Tree,"  said  the  girl  "Do  you 
like  it?" 

"Yes!"  said  Miss  Vesta,  coming  forward 
timidly,  "Good  evening,  Aunt  Marcia.  Oh, 
good  evening  to  you,  Doctor  Strong.  The 


150  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

hat  seemed  to  me  so  pretty,  and  you  are 
always  so  kindly  interested,  Aunt  Marcia!  I 
ought  to  apologise  to  you,  Doctor  Strong,  for 
introducing  such  a  subject." 

"  Vesta,  don't  twitter ! "  said  Mrs.  Tree.  "  Is 
there  anything  improper  about  the  hat?  It's 
very  well,  child,  very  well.  I  always  liked  a 
scoop  myself,  but  folks  don't  know  much  now 
adays.  What  do  you  think  of  it,  young  man  ? " 

Geoffrey  thought  it  looked  like  a  lunar  halo, 
but  he  did  not  say  so ;  he  said  something  prim 
and  conventional  about  its  being  very  pretty 
and  becoming. 

"  Are  you  going  to  sit  down  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Tree.  "I  can't  abide  to  see  folks  standing 
round  as  if  they  was  hat-poles." 

Miss  Vesta  slipped  into  a  seat,  but  the 
younger  Vesta  shook  her  head. 

"  I  must  go  on ! "  she  said.  "  Aunt  Phoabe 
is  expecting  a  letter,  and  I  must  tell  her  that 
there  is  none." 


SIDE  LIGHTS  151 

"  Yes,  dear,  yes ! "  said  Miss  Vesta.  "  Your 
Aunt  Phoebe  will  be  impatient,  doubtless ;  you 
are  right.  And  perhaps  it  will  be  best  for  me, 
too  —  "  she  half  rose,  but  Mrs.  Tree  pulled  her 
down  again  without  ceremony. 

"You  stay  here,  Vesta!"  she  commanded. 
"  I  want  to  see  you.  But  you  "  —  she  turned 
to  Geoffrey,  who  had  remained  standing  — 
"can  go  along  with  the  child,  if  you're  a 
mind  to.  You'll  get  nothing  more  out  of 
me,  I  tell  ye." 

"  I  am  going  to  send  you  a  measles  bacillus 
to-morrow  morning,"  said  the  young  doctor. 
"You  must  take  it  in  your  coffee,  and  then 
you  will  want  to  see  me  every  day.  Good-bye, 
Mrs.  Tree !  some  day  you  will  be  sorry  for 
your  cruelty.  Miss  Vesta  —  till  tea-time ! " 

Aunt  and  niece  watched  the  young  couple 
in  silence  as  they  walked  along  the  street. 
Both  walked  well;  it  was  a  pleasure  to  see 
them  move.  He  was  tall  enough  to  justify 


152  GEOFFREY  STEONG 

the  little  courteous  bend  of  the  head,  but  not 
enough  to  make  her  anxious  about  the  top  of 
her  hat  —  if  she  ever  had  such  anxieties. 

"  Well ! "  said  Mrs.  Tree,  suddenly. 

Miss  Vesta  started.  "  Yes,  dear  Aunt  Mar- 
cia ! "  she  said.  "  Yes,  certainly ;  I  am  here." 

"  They  make  a  pretty  couple,  don't  they  ? " 
said  the  old  lady.  "  If  she  would  come  out  of 
her  tantrums,  —  hey,  Vesta  ? K 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Marcia ! "  said  Miss  Vesta,  softly. 
She  blushed  very  pink,  and  looked  round  the 
room  with  a  furtive,  frightened  glance. 

"No,  there's  no  one  behind  the  sofa,"  said 
Mrs.  Tree ;  "  and  there's  no  one  under  the  big 
chair,  and  Phoabe  is  safe  at  home  with  her 
knitting,  and  the  best  place  for  her."  (Mrs. 
Tree  did  not  "  get  on  "  with  her  niece  Phoebe.) 
"There's  no  use  in  looking  like  a  scared 
pigeon,  Vesta  Blyth.  I  say  they  make  a 
pretty  couple,  and  I  say  they  would  make 
a  pretty  couple  coming  out  of  church  to- 


SIDE  LIGHTS  153 

gether.  I'd  give  her  my  Mechlin  flounces; 
you'll  never  want  'em." 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Marcia  ! "  said  dear  Miss  Vesta, 
clasping  her  soft  hands.  "  If  it  might  be  the 
Lord's  will  —  " 

"  The  Lord  likes  to  be  helped  along  once  in 
a  while ! "  said  Mrs.  Tree.  "  Don't  tell  me  !  I 
wasn't  born  yesterday."  And  this  statement 
was  not  to  be  controverted. 


CHAPTEE  X. 

OVER   THE   WAY 

"  DEACON,"  said  Mrs.  Weight,  "  Mis'  Tree  is 
sick!" 

"  Now,  reelly  ! "  said  the  deacon.  "  Is  that 
so?" 

"  It  is  so.  She  sent  for  Doctor  Strong  this 
morning.  I  saw  Direxia  go  out,  and  she  was 
gone  just  the  len'th  of  time  to  go  to  the  girls' 
and  back.  Pretty  soon  he  came,  riding  like 
mad  on  that  wheel  thing  of  his.  He  stayed 
'most  an  hour,  and  came  out  with  a  face  a 
yard  long.  I  expect  it's  her  last  sickness, 
don't  you  ? " 

"  Mebbe  so ! "  said  the  deacon,  dubiously. 
"  Mis'  Tree  has  had  a  long  life ;  she'd  oughter 

154 


OVER    THE    WAT  155 

be  prepared;  I  trust  she  is.  She  has  always 
loved  the  world's  things,  but  I  trust  she  is. 
Ain't  this  ruther  a  slim  dinner,  Viny  ?  I  was 
looking  for  a  boiled  dinner  to-day,  kind  of." 

"Fried  apples  and  pork  was  good  enough 
for  my  father,"  replied  his  wife,  "  and  I  guess 
they'll  do  for  you,  Ephraim  Weight.  Doctor 
Strong  says  you  eat  too  nmch  every  day  of 
your  life,  and  that's  why  you  run  to  flesh  so. 
Not  that  I  think  much  of  what  he  says.  I 
asked  him  how  he  accounted  for  me  being  so 
fleshy,  and  not  the  value  of  a  great  spoonful 
passing  my  lips  some  days;  he  made  answer 
he  couldn't  say.  I  think  less  of  that  young 
man's  knowledge  every  time  I  see  him.  Tears 
to  me  if  I  was  the  Blyth  girls,  I  should  be 
real  unwilling  to  have  my  aunt  pass  away 
with  no  better  care  than  she's  likely  to  get 
from  him.  Billy,  where's  your  push-piece? 
I  don't  want  to  see  you  push  with  your  fingers 
again.  It's  real  vulgar." 


156  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

"  I've  eat  it ! "  said  Billy.  "  Mother,  there's 
the  young  lad)'  from  Miss  Blythses  going  in 
to  Mis'  Tree's." 

"  I  want  to  know  —  so  she  is !  She's  got  a 
bag  with  her.  She's  going  to  stay.  Well,  I 
expect  that  settles  it.  I  should  think  Phoebe 
and  Vesta  would  feel  kind  o'  bad,  being  passed 
over  in  that  way,  but  it's  pleasant  to  have 
young  folks  about  a  dying  bed  —  Annie  Lizzie, 
I'll  slap  you  if  you  don't  stop  kicking  under 
the  table  —  and  Nathaniel  was  always  his 
aunt's  favourite.  Most  likely  she's  left  her 
property  to  him,  or  to  this  girl  I  expect  it'll 
be  a  handsome  provision.  Mis'  Tree  has  lived 
handsome  and  close  all  her  days.  As  you 
say,  deacon,  I  hope  she's  prepared,  but  I 
never  see  any  signs  of  active  piety  in  her 
myself." 

There  was  a  pause,  while  all  the  family  — 
except  Annie  Lizzie,  who  profited  by  the  inter 
lude  to  take  two  doughnuts  beyond  her  usual 


OVER    THE   WAT  157 

allowance  —  gazed  eagerly  at  the  house  oppo 
site. 

"  She's  questioning  Direxia.  Direxia's  shak 
ing  her  head.  Mebbe  it's  all  over  by  now ;  I 
expect  it  is.  I  declare,  there's  a  kind  of  solemn 
look  comes  over  a  house  —  you  can't  name  it, 
but  it's  there.  Deacon,  I  think  you'd  ought 
to  step  over.  Elder  Haskell  is  away,  you 
know,  and  you  senior  deacon ;  I  do  certainly 
think  you'd  ought  to  step  over  and  offer  prayer/ 
or  do  whatever's  needful.  They'll  want  you 
to  break  it  to  the  girls,  like  as  not ;  it's  terrible 
to  have  no  man  in  a  family.  All  them  lone 
women,  and  everything  to  see  to;  I  declare, 
my  heart  warms  to  'em,  if  Phoebe  is  cranky. 
Ain't  you  going,  Deacon  ?  " 

The  deacon  hesitated.  "I  —  ain't  sure  that 
I'd  better,  Viny ! "  he  said.  "  I  feel  no  assur 
ance  that  Mis'  Tree  has  passed  away,  and  she 
is  not  one  that  welcomes  inquiry  as  a  rule. 
I've  no  objection  to  asking  at  the  door  —  " 


158  GEOFFREY  STEONG 

"  Now,  Deacon,  if  that  isn't  you  all  over ! 
you  are  always  so  afraid  of  putting  yourself 
forward.  Where  would  you  have  been  this 
day,  I  should  like  to  know,  if  it  hadn't  been 
for  me  shoving  behind?  I  tell  you,  when 
folks  comes  to  their  last  end  they  suffer  a 
great  change.  If  you  let  that  woman  die  — 
though  it's  my  firm  belief  she's  dead  a'ready 
—  without  at  least  trying  to  bring  her 
state  before  her,  you'll  have  to  answer  for 
it ;  I  won't  be  responsible.  Here's  your  hat ; 
now  you  go  right  over.  There's  no  know- 
ing  —  " 

"There's  Doctor  Strong  going  in  now!" 
pleaded  the  deacon.  "  Most  likely  he  will  see 
to  —  " 

"  Ephraim  Weight !  look  me  in  the  eye ! 
We've  lived  opposite  neighbours  to  Mis'  Tree 
twenty  years,  and  do  you  think  I'm  going  to 
have  it  said  that  when  her  time  came  to  die 
we  stood  back  and  let  strangers,  and  next  door 


OVER    THE   WAY  159 

to  heathen,  do  for  her  ?  If  you  don't  go  over. 
I  shall.  Mebbe  I'd  better  go,  anyway.  Wait 
till  I  get  my  bunnit  —  " 

It  ended  in  the  deacon's  going  alone. 
Slowly  and  unwillingly  he  plodded  across  the 
street,  and  shuffled  up  the  walk ;  timidly  and 
half-heartedly  he  lifted  the  shining  knocker 
and  let  it  fall.  Direxia  Hawkes  opened  the 
door,  and  he  passed  in. 

"Well?"  said  Mrs.  Weight. 

The  deacon  had  not  made  a  long  stay  at 
the  opposite  house.  Eeturning  faster  than  he 
came,  his  large  white  cheeks  were  slightly 
flushed;  his  pale  blue  eyes  wore  a  startled 
look.  He  suffered  his  wife  to  take  his  hat 
and  stick  from  him,  and  opened  his  mouth 
once  or  twice,  but  said  nothing. 

"  Well  ? "  said  Mrs.  Weight  again.  "  Is  she 
dead,  Deacon  ?  Ephraim,  what  has  happened  to 
you  ?  have  you  lost  the  use  of  your  speech  ? 


160  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

Oh !  what  will  become  of  me,  with  these  four 
innocent  —  " 

"  Woman,  be  still ! "  said  Ephraim  Weight ; 
and  his  wife  was  still,  gaping  in  utter  be 
wilderment  at  this  turning  of  her  mammoth 
but  patient  worm. 

"  Mrs.  Tree  is  not  dead ! "  resumed  the 
deacon.  "I  don't  see  as  she's  any  more 
likely  to  die  than  I  am.  I  don't  see  as 
there's  any  living  thing  the  matter  with  her 
—  except  the  devil!" 

At  this  second  outburst  Mrs.  Weight  col 
lapsed,  and  sat  down,  her  hands  on  her  knees, 
staring  at  her  husband.  The  children  whim 
pered  and  crept  behind  her  ample  back. 
"  Pa  "  was  transformed. 

"I  went  to  that  house,"  Deacon  Weight 
went  on,  "against  my  judgment,  Viny;  you 
know  I  did.  I  felt  no  call  to  go,  quite  the 
reverse,  but  you  were  so  — 

"I  found  Mis'  Tree  sitting  up  straight  in 


OVEE   THE  WAY  161 

her  chair  in  the  parlour.  She  had  her  night 
cap  on,  and  her  feet  in  a  footmuff,  but  that 
was  all  the  sign  of  sickness  I  could  see.  She 
looked  up  at  me  as  wicked  as  ever  I  saw  her. 
'Here's  the  deacon,'  she  says!  'he's  heard 
I'm  sick  —  Viny  saw  you  come,  doctor, — 
and  he  has  come  to  pray  over  me.  I'm 
past  praying  for,  Deacon.  Have  some  orange 
cordial ! ' 

"There  was  glasses  on  the  tray,  and  a 
decanter  of  that  cordial  Direxia  makes;  it's 
too  strong  for  a  temperance  household.  Doc 
tor  Strong  and  that  young  Blyth  girl  were 
sitting  on  two  stools,  and  they  was  all  three 
playing  cards!  I  suppose  I  looked  none  too 
well  pleased,  for  Mis'  Tree  said, '  I  can't  have 
you  turning  my  cordial  sour,  Ephraim  Weight. 
Eemember  when  you  stole  oranges  out  of  the 
schooner,  and  Cap'n  Tree  horsed  you  up  and 
spanked  you  ?  here's  your  health,  Ephraim ! ' 

"  She  —  she   looked   at   me   for   a  minute, 


162  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

sharp  and  quick  —  I  was  seeking  for  some 
word  that  might  bring  her  to  a  sense  of  her 
state,  and  what  was  fitting  at  her  age  —  and 
then  she  begun  to  laugh.  'You  thought  I 
was  dead!'  says  she.  'You  thought  I  was 
dead,  I  see  it  in  your  face;  and  Viny  sent 
you  to  view  the  remains.  You  go  home,  and 
tell  her  I'll  bury  ye  both,  and  do  it  handsome. 
Go  'long  with  ye !  scat ! ' 

"That  was  the  expression  she  used,  to  a 
senior  deacon  of  the  congregation  she  sits 
in.  I  believe  Satan  has  a  strong  hold  on 
that  old  woman.  I  —  I  think  I  will  go  to 
my  room,  wife." 

"  Do  you  think  there  is  really  anything  the 
matter  with  Aunt  Tree  ? "  asked  Vesta.  She 
had  followed  the  young  doctor  out  into  the 
prim  little  garden,  and  was  picking  some  late 
roses  as  she  spoke. 

"I  can't  make  out  anything,"  said  Geoffrey. 


OVEE   THE   WAT  163 

*  She  says  she  has  a  pain,  and  tells  me  to  find 
out  where  it  is,  if  I  know  anything ;  and  then 
she  laughs  in  my  face,  and  refuses  to  answer 
questions.  I  think  Mr.  Tree  must  have  had 
a  lively  time  of  it;  she's  perfectly  delightful, 
though.  Her.  pulse  and  temperature  are  all 
right;  she  looks  well;  of  course  at  that  age 
the  slightest  breath  blows  out  the  flame,  but 
I  cannot  make  out  that  anything  is  actually 
wrong.  I  suspect  —  " 

"What?"  said  Vesta. 

"  I  suspect  she  simply  wanted  you  to  come 
and  stay  with  her,  and  made  this  an  ex 
cuse." 

"But  I  would  have  come;  there  was  no 
need  of  any  excuse.  I  would  have  come 
in  a  minute  if  she  had  asked  me ;  I  am 
so  very  much  stronger,  and  I  love  to  stay 
here." 

"  You  won't  stay  long,  though,  will  you  ?  it 
can't  be  necessary,  not  in  the  least  necessary. 


164  GEOFFREY  STEONG 

She  is  really  perfectly  well,  and  we  —  your 
aunts,  that  is  —  the  house  will  be  too  forlorn 
without  you." 

Vesta  laughed ;  she  had  a  delightful  laugh. 

"  You  have  charming  manners ! "  she  said. 
"  I  can't  help  knowing  that  you  will  really  be 
glad  to  be  rid  of  me,  all  but  Aunt  Vesta ;  dear 
Aunt  Vesta!" 

"  You  don't  know ! "  said  Geoffrey.  "  It 
won't  be  the  same  place  without  you." 

"  Yes,  I  do  know ;  Aunt  Phrebe  told  me. 
You  said  the  three  of  you  made  the  perfect 
triangle,  and  you  wouldn't  let  in  the  Czar  of 
Eussia  or  the  Pope  of  Eome  to  spoil  it." 

"  Oh !  but  that  was  before  —  that  was  when 
things  were  entirely  different ! "  said  Geoffrey. 
"I  —  to  tell  the  truth,  I  think  I  was  about 
twelve  years  old  when  I  first  came  to  the 
house.  I  am  growing  up  a  little,  Miss  Blyth, 
I  truly  am.  And  you  are  not  in  the  least 
like  the  Czar  or  the  Pope  either,  and  —  I  wish 


OVER   THE  WAY  165 

you  would  come  back.  Mayn't  I  have  a 
rose,  please?" 

"  Oh !  all  you  want,  I  am  sure,"  said  Vesta, 
heartily.  "But  they  are  not  really  so  pretty 
as  those  at  home." 

"  I  thought  perhaps  you  would  give  me  one 
of  those  in  your  hand,"  said  Geoffrey,  half- 
timidly.  "Thank  you!  I  don't  suppose  — " 

He  was  about  to  suggest  her  pinning  it  on 
his  coat,  but  caught  sight  of  Mrs.  Weight  at 
the  opposite  window,  and  refrained. 

"Do  you  know  any  Spanish?"  he  asked, 
abruptly. 

"  Spanish  ?  no ! "  said  Vesta,  .looking  at  him 
wide-eyed. 

"  Not  even  names  of  flowers  ? " 

"  No !  how  should  I  ?     Why  do  you  ask  ? " 

"  Oh  —  nothing !  I  was  thinking  of  learn 
ing  it  one  of  these  days,  but  I  don't  believe  I 
shall.  Come  and  walk  a  little  way,  won't 
you  ?  you  look  tired.  I  can't  —  you  must  not 


166  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

stay  here  if  you  are  going  to  get  tired,  you 
know.  Old  people  are  very  exacting  some 
times." 

"  Oh,  I  shall  not  get  tired.  You  can't  think 
how  much  better  I  am.  No,  I  must  go  back 
now,  Doctor  Strong.  Aunt  Tree  might  want 
something." 

"  Physician's  orders ! "  said  Geoffrey,  peremp 
torily.  "Dose  of  one-half  mile,  to  be  taken 
immediately.  Won't  you  please  come,  Miss 
Blyth  ?  I  —  I  want  to  tell  you  about  a  very 
interesting  case." 

Mrs.  Weight  peered  over  the  window-blind. 
She  was  carrying  a  cup  of  tea  to  the  deacon, 
who  was  feeling  poorly,  but  had  paused  at 
sight  of  the  young  couple.  "If  that  girl 
thinks  of  making  up  to  that  young  man,"  she 
said,  "  she's  got  hold  of  the  wrong  cob,  I  can 
tell  her.  Mira  Pettis  made  him  a  napkin- 
holder,  worked  'Bonappety'  on  it  in  cross- 
stitch  on  blue  satin,  and  he  give  it  to  the  girls' 


OVER    THE   WAY  167 

cat  for  a  collar.  I  see  the  cat  with  it  on.  I 
don't  want  to  see  no  clearer  than  that  how 
he  treats  young  ladies.  I  wish't  Doctor 
Stedman  was  home." 


CHAPTEE   XI. 

BROKEN  BONES 

ANOTHER  bicycle  accident!  This  time  it 
was  a  head-on  collision,  two  boys  riding  at 
each  other  round  a  corner,  as  if  for  a  wager. 
The  young  doctor  had  patched  them  both  up, 
there  being  no  broken  bones,  only  a  dislocated 
shoulder  and  many  bruises,  and  was  now  riding 
home,  reflecting  upon  the  carelessness  of  the 
human  race  in  general,  and  of  boys  in  particu 
lar.  Here  was  one  of  the  great  benefactions 
of  modern  civilisation,  a  health-and-pleasure- 
giving  apparatus  within  the  reach  of  all,  and 
often  turned  into  an  engine  of  destruction  by 
senseless  stupidity,  Mrs.  Tree  would  burn  all 
bicycles  if  she  could  have  her  way;  not  that 

168 


BROKEN  BONES  169 

Mrs.  Tree  was  stupid,  far  from  it !  Miss 
Phoebe  disapproved  of  them,  Miss  Vesta  feared 
them,  and  evidently  expected  his  to  blow  up 
from  day  to  day.  What  would  they  all  say 
if  they  knew  that  he  had  been  trying  to  per 
suade  Vesta  to  ride  with  him  ?  He  called  her 
Vesta  in  his  thoughts,  merely  to  distinguish 
her  from  her  aunt.  He  was  quite  sure  it 
would  be  the  best  possible  exercise  for  her, 
now  that  she  was  so  much  stronger.  So  far, 
she  had  met  all  his  representations  with  her 
gentle  —  no !  not  gentle ;  Geoffrey  would  be 
switched  if  she  was  gentle ;  her  quiet  negative. 
Her  aunts  would  not  like  it,  and  there  was  an 
end.  Well,  there  wasn't  an  end !  A  reason 
able  person  ought  to  listen  to  reason,  and  be 
convinced  by  it.  Vesta  did  not  appear  to  be 
reasonable  yet,  but  she  was  intelligent,  and  the 
rest  would  come  as  she  grew  stronger.  And 
—  he  had  no  right  to  say  she  was  not  gentle ; 
she  could  be  the  gentlest  creature  that  ever 


170  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

lived,  when  it  was  a  question  of  a  child,  or 
a  bird,  or  —  anything  that  was  hurt,  in  short. 
When  that  little  beggar  fell  down  the  other 
day  and  barked  his  idiotic  little  shins,  the  way 
she  took  him  up,  and  kissed  him,  and  got  him 
to  laughing,  while  he,  Geoffrey,  plastered  him 
up;  and  it  hurt  too,  getting  the  gravel  out. 
When  that  violoncello  note  gets  into  her  voice 
—  well,  you  know!  Yes,  she  must  certainly 
ride  the  bicycle !  What  could  be  more  restor 
ing,  more  delightful,  than  to  ride  along  a 
country  road  like  this,  in  the  soft  afternoon, 
when  the  heat  of  the  day  was  over?  The 
honey-clover  was  in  blossom  ;  there  were 
clusters  of  it  everywhere,  making  the  whole 
air  sweet.  Of  course  he  would  watch  her, 
keep  note  of  her  colour  and  breathing,  see 
that  she  did  not  overdo  it.  Of  course  it  was 
his  business  to  see  to  all  that.  What  was 
that  the  old  professor  used  to  say  ? 

"There  are  two  hands  upon  the  pulse  of 


BROKEN  BONES  171 

life ;  the  detective's,  to  surprise  and  confound, 
the  physician's,  to  help  and  to  heal." 

It  was  that,  after  all,  that  feeling,  that  de 
cided  one  to  be  a  physician.  If  he  could  do 
anything  to  help  this  beautiful  and  —  yes, 
noble  creature,  he  was  bound  to  do  it,  wasn't 
he,  whether  her  aunts  liked  it  or  not  ?  even, 
perhaps,  whether  she  herself  liked  it  or  not. 
Well,  but  she  would  like  it,  she  couldn't  help 
liking  it,  once  she  tried  it.  She  was  built  for 
a  rider.  He  might  borrow  Miss  Flabb's  wheel 
for  her.  It  was  absurd  for  Miss  Flabb  to 
attempt  to  ride;  she  would  never  do  enough 
to  take  down  her  flesh,  and  meantime,  being 
near-sighted,  she  was  at  the  mercy  of  every 
stray  dec  and  hen,  and  likely  to  be  run  down 
by  the  first  scorcher  on  the  highroad.  Now 
with  him,  even  at  the  beginning,  Vesta  would 
have  nothing  to  fear.  He  would  — 

At  this  moment  came  an  interruption.  The 
interruption  had  four  legs,  and  barked.  It 


172  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

came  from  a  neighbouring  farmhouse,  and  flew 
straight  at  the  wheel,  which  was  also  flying, 
for  the  young  doctor  was  apt  to  ride  fast  when 
he  was  thinking.  There  was  a  whirl  of  arms, 
legs,  wheels,  and  tails,  a  heavy  fall,  —  and  the 
dog  ran  off  on  three  legs,  ki-hying  to  the 
skies,  and  the  young  doctor  lay  still  in 
the  road. 

Half  an  hour  later,  Mr.  Ithuriel  Butters 
stopped  at  the  door  of  the  Temple  of  Vesta. 
He  was  driving  a  pair  of  comfortable  old 
white  horses,  who  went  to  sleep  as  soon  as  he 
said  "  Whoa ! "  He  looked  up  at  the  house, 
and  then  behind  him  in  the  wagon.  Seeing 
nobody  at  the  windows,  he  looked  up  and 
down  the  street,  and  was  aware  of  a  young 
woman  approaching.  He  hailed  her. 

"Say,  do  you  know  the  folks  in  that 
house  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Vesta ;  "  I  am  staying  there." 


BEOKEN  BONES  173 

"  Be ! "  said  Mr.  Butters.  "  Wai,  Doctor 
Strong  boards  there  too,  don't  he  ? " 

"  Yes  ;  I  don't  think  he  is  in  now, 
though." 

"  I  know  he  ain't !  "  said  Ithuriel  Butters. 

Vesta  looked  with  interest  at  the  stalwart 
old  figure,  and  strong  keen  face.  Most  of  the 
wrinkles  in  the  face  had  come  from  smiling, 
but  it  was  grave  enough  now. 

"Will  you  come  in  and  wait,"  she  asked, 
"  or  leave  a  message  ? " 

"Wai,  I  guess  I  won't  do  neither  —  this 
time ! "  said  Mr.  Butters,  slowly. 

Vesta  looked  at  him  in  some  perplexity; 
he  returned  a  glance  of  grave  meaning. 

"You  kin  to  him?"  asked  the  old  man. 
"  Sister,  or  cousin,  mebbe  ? " 

"  No !  what  is  it  ?  something  has  happened 
to  Doctor  Strong!"  Vesta's  hand  tightened 
on  the  rail  of  the  steps. 

"  Keepin'  company  with  him,  p'raps  ? " 


174  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

"  No,  oh,  no !  will  you  tell  me  at  once,  please, 
and  plainly,  what  has  happened  ? " 

Vesta  spoke  quietly;  in  her  normal  condi 
tion  she  was  always  quieter  when  moved ;  but 
the  colour  seemed  to  fall  from  her  cheeks  as 
her  eyes  followed  those  of  the  old  man  to 
something  that  lay  long  and  still  in  the  cart 
behind  him. 

"Fact  is,"  said  Mr.  Butters,  "I've  got  him 
here.  'Pears  to  be" —  the  strong  old  voice 
faltered  for  an  instant  —  "  'pears  to  be  bust  up 
some  consid'able.  I  found  him  in  the  ro'd  a 
piece  back,  with  his  velocipede  tied  up  all  over 
him.  He  ain't  dead,  nor  he  ain't  asleep,  but  I 
can't  git  nothin'  out  of  him,  so  I  jest  brung 
him  along.  I'll  h'ist  him  out,  if  you  say  so." 

"  Can  you  ? "  said  Vesta.  "  I  will  help  you. 
I  am  strong  enough.  Will  your  horses  stand  ? " 

"  They  can't  fall  down,  'count  of  the  shafts," 
said  Mr.  Butters,  clambering  slowly  down  from 
his  seat,  "and  they  won't  do  nothin'  else. 


BROKEN  BONES  175 

We'll  git  him  out  now,  jest  as  easy.  I  think 
a  sight  of  that  young  feller ;  made  me  feel  bad, 
I  tell  ye,  to  see  him  there  all  stove  up,  and 
think  mebbe  —  " 

"  Don't,  please ! "  said  Vesta.  "  I  am  —  not 
very  strong  —  " 

"  Thought  you  said  you  was  ! "  said  Ithuriel 
Butters.  "  You  stand  one  side,  then,  if  it's  the 
same  to  you.  I  can  carry  him  as  easy  as  I 
would  a  baby,  and  I  wouldn't  hurt  him  no 
more'n  I  would  one." 

"There  are  two  hands  upon  the  pulse  of 
life ! "  said  the  young  doctor. 

No  one  replied  to  this  remark,  nor  did  he 
appear  to  expect  a  reply.  The  room  was 
darkened,  and  he  was  lying  on  his  bed;  at 
least  some  ono  was,  he  supposed  it  was 
himself.  There  was  a  smell  of  drugs.  Some 
one  had  been  hurt. 

"There  are  two  hands  upon  the   pulse   of 


176  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

life,"  he  repeated ;  "  the  detective's,  to  surprise 
—  and  confound ;  the  phys —  phys —  what  ? " 

"  Physician's,"  said  some  one. 

"  That's  it !  the  physician's,  to  help  and  to 
heal  This  appears  to  he  —  combination  — 
both  —  " 

The  hand  was  removed  from  his  wrist.  He 
frowned  heavily,  and  asked  if  he  were  a  Mo 
hammedan.  Receiving  no  answer,  repeated 
the  question  with  some  irritation. 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  said  the  same  quiet  voice. 
"  Then  why  —  turban  ? "  he  frowned  again,  and 
brought  the  folds  of  linen  lower  over  his  nose. 
They  were  quietly  readjusted.  The  light, 
firm  hand  was  laid  on  his  forehead  for  a  mo 
ment,  then  once  more  on  his  wrist.  Then 
something  was  put  to  his  lips;  he  was  told 
to  drink,  and  did  so.  Than  he  said,  "My 
name  is  Geoffrey  Strong.  There  is  nothing  the 
matter  with  me." 

"Yes,  I  know." 


BROKEN  BONES  177 

"But  —  if  you  take  away  your  hand  —  I 
can't  hold  on,  you  know." 

The  hand  was  laid  firmly  on  his.  He  sighed 
comfortably,  murmuring  something  about  not 
knowing  that  violoncellos  had  hands ;  dozed  a 
few  minutes ;  dragged  himself  up  from  unim 
aginable  depths  to  ask,  "You  are  sure  you 
understand  that  about  the  pulse  ? " 

Being  answered,  "  Yes,  I  quite  understand," 
said,  "  Then  you'll  see  to  it ! "  and  slept  like  a 
baby. 

When  he  woke  next  morning,  it  was  with 
an  alert  and  inquisitive  eye.  The  eye  glanced 
here  and  there,  taking  in  details. 

"  What  the  —  what  is  all  this? " 

There  was  a  soft  flurry,  and  Miss  Vesta  was 
beside  him.  "  Oh !  my  dear  —  my  dear  young 
friend  !  thank  God,  you  are  yourself  again  !" 

Geoffrey's  eyes  softened  into  tenderness  as 
he  looked  at  her.  "Dear  Miss  Vesta!  what 
is  the  matter  ?  I  seem  to  have  —  "  He  tried 


178  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

to  move  his  right  arm,  but  stopped  \vith  a 
grimace.  "I  seem  to  have  smashed  myself. 
Would  it  bother  you  to  tell  me  about  it? 
Stop,  though !  I  remember !  a  dog  ran  out,  and 
got  tangled  up  in  the  spokes.  Oh,  yes,  I  re 
member.  Am  I  much  damaged  ?  arm  broken 
—  who  set  it  ?  that's  a  nice  bandage,  anyhow. 
But  why  the  malignant  and  the  turbaned  Turk 
effect  ?  is  my  head  broken,  too  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,  dear  Doctor  Strong,  nothing  malig 
nant;  nothing  at  all  of  that  nature,  I  assure 
you,  Oh,  I  hope,  I  hope  the  arm  is  properly 
cared  for !  but  it  was  so  unfortunate  his  being 
laid  up  with  pleurisy  just  at  this  time,  wasn't 
it  ?  and  a  severe  contusion  on  your  head,  you 
see,  so  that  for  some  hours  we  were  sadly  — 
but  now  you  are  entirely  yourself,  and  we  are 
so  humbly  and  devoutly  thankful,  dear  Doctor 
Strong!" 

"  I  think  you  might  say  '  Geoffrey,'  when  I 
am  all  broke  up ! "  said  the  boy. 


BROKEN  BONES  179 

"  Geoffrey,  dear  Geoffrey  ! "  murmured  Miss 
Vesta,  patting  his  sound  arm  softly. 

"I  think  you  might  sit  down  by  me  and 
tell  me  all  about  it.  Who  is  laid  up  with 
pleurisy  ?  how  much  am  I  broken  ?  who 
brought  me  home  ?  who  set  my  arm  ?  I  want 
to  know  all  about  it,  please!" 

The  young  doctor  spoke  with  cheerful  im- 
periousness.  Miss  Vesta  glanced  timorously 
toward  the  door,  then  sat  down  by  the  bedside. 
"Hush!"  she  said,  softly.  "You  must  not 
excite  yourself,  my  dear  young  friend,  you 
must  not,  indeed.  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it, 
if  you  think  —  if  you  are  quite  sure  you  ought 
to  be  told.  You  are  a  physician,  of  course, 
but  she  was  very  anxious  that  you  should  not 
be  excited." 

"  Who  was  anxious  ?  I  shall  be  very  much 
excited  if  you  keep  things  from  me,  Miss 
Vesta.  I  feel  my  temperature  going  up  this 
moment." 


180  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

"  Dear !  dear ! "  cried  poor  Miss  Vesta.  "  Try 
—  to  —  to  restrain  it,  Geoffrey,  I  implore  you. 
I  will  —  I  will  tell  you  at  once.  As  you  sur 
mise,  my  dear,  a  dog  —  we  suppose  it  to  have 
been  a  dog,  though  I  am  not  aware  that  any 
one  saw  the  accident.  An  old  man  whom  you 
once  attended  —  Mr.  Butters;  you  spoke  of 
him,  I  remember  —  found  you  lying  in  the 
road,  my  child,  quite  unconscious.  He  is  an 
unpolished  person,  but  possessed  of  warm 
affections.  I  —  I  can  never  forget  his  tender 
solicitude  about  you.  He  brought  you  home 
in  his  wagon,  and  carried  you  into  the  house. 
He  volunteered  to  go  to  Greening  for  Doctor 
Namby  — " 

"Namby  never  put  on  this  bandage !"  inter 
rupted  Geoffrey. 

"  No,  Geoffrey,  no !  we  do  not  think  highly 
of  Doctor  Namby,  but  there  was  no  one  else, 
for  you  seem  to  feel  so  strongly  about  Doctor 
Pottle—" 


BROKEN  BONES  181 

"  Pottle  is  a  boiled  cabbage-head  i "  said 
Geoffrey.  "  He  couldn't  set  a  lien's  leg  with 
out  tying  it  in  bow-knots,  let  alone  a  man's 
arm.  Who  did  set  it,  Miss  Vesta  ?  I'm  sure 
I  must  be  up  to  105  by  this  time.  I  can't 
answer  for  the  consequences,  you  know,  if  —  " 

"  Oh !  hush !  hush ! "  cried  Miss  Vesta.  "  He 
had  the  pleurisy,  as  I  said ;  very  badly  indeed, 
poor  man,  so  that  he  was  quite,  quite  in 
valided —  " 

«  Pottle  had  ?  serve  him  —  " 

"No,  no,  Geoffrey;  Doctor  Namby  had. 
And  so  —  she  was  quite  positive  she  under 
stood  the  case,  and  —  Mr.  Butters  upheld  her 

—  oh,  I  trust,  I  trust  I  did  not  do  wrong  in 
allowing  her  to  take  so  grave  a  responsibility 

—  Sister  Phrebe  in  bed  with  her    erysipelas 

—  Geoffrey  —  you  will  not  be  angry,  my  dear 
young  friend  ?     Little  Vesta  set  the  arm ! " 

The  word  finally  spoken,  Miss  Vesta  sat 
panting  quickly  and  softly,  like  a  frightened 


182  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

bird,  her  eyes  fixed  anxiously  on  the  young 
doctor. 

The  young  doctor  whistled ;  then  considered 
the  arm  again  with  keen  scrutiny. 

"  The  de —  that  is  —  she  did,  did  she  ? "  he 
said,  half  to  himself.  He  felt  it  all  over  with 
his  sound  hand,  and  inspected  it  again.  "  Well, 
it's  a  mighty  good  job,"  he  said,  "whoever 
did  it." 

Miss  Vesta's  sigh  of  relief  was  almost  a 
gasp.  Geoffrey  looked  up  quickly,  and  saw 
her  gentle  eyes  brimming  with  tears. 

"You  dear  angel!"  he  cried,  taking  her 
hand.  "I  have  made  you  anxious.  I  am  a 
brute  —  a  cuttlefish  —  hang  me,  somebody, 
do!" 

"  Oh !  hush,  hush !  my  boy ! "  cried  the  little 
lady,  wiping  away  her  tears.  "  It  was  only  — 
the  relief,  Geoffrey.  To  feel  that  you  are  not 
angry  at  her  —  Sister  Phoebe  would  call  it  pre 
sumption,  but  Vesta  did  not  mean  to  be 


EEOKEN  BONES  183 

presumptuous,  Geoffrey  —  and  that  you  think 
it  is  not  so  ill  done  as  I  feared.  I  —  I  am  so 
happy,  that  is  all,  my  dear ! " 

She  wept  silently,  and  Geoffrey  lay  and 
called  himself  names.  Presently  —  "  Where 
is  she  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Sister  Phoebe  ?  she  is  still  in  bed,  and  suf 
fering  a  good  deal.  I  am  continuing  the 
remedies  you  gave  her.  I  —  I  have  thought 
it  best  to  let  her  suppose  that  Doctor  Namby 
had  attended  you,  Geoffrey.  She  is  very  ner 
vous,  and  I  feared  to  excite  her." 

Geoffrey  commended  her  wisdom,  but  made 
it  clear  that  he  was  not  thinking  of  Miss 
Phoebe.  Couldn't  he  see  Miss  Little  Vesta? 
he  asked.  He  wanted  to  —  to  thank  her 
for  what  she  had  done,  and  ask  just  how 
she  had  done  it.  There  were  all  sorts  of 
details  —  in  short,  it  was  important  that  he 
should  see  her  at  once.  Asleep?  Why  — 
it  seemed  unreasonable  that  she  should  be 


184  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

asleep  at  this  hour  of  the  morning.  Was  she 
not  well? 

"  She  —  she  watched  by  you  most  of  the 
night ! "  Miss  Vesta  confessed.  "  Your  head  — 
she  was  afraid  of  congestion,  and  wanted  the 
cloths  changed  frequently.  She  would  not 
let  me  sit  up,  Geoffrey,  though  I  begged  her 
to  let  me  do  so.  She  will  come  as  soon  as 
she  wakes,  I  am  sure." 

"  I  told  you  I  was  a  cuttlefish ! "  said  Geof 
frey.  "Now  you  see!  I  —  I  believe  I  am 
getting  sleepy  again,  Miss  Vesta.  What  is 
that  pretty  thing  you  have  around  your  neck  ? 
Did  she  sit  in  that  chair?  What  a  fool  a 
man  is  when  he  is  asleep ! " 

Seeing  his  eyelids  droop,  Miss  Vesta  moved 
softly  away ;  was  called  back  at  the  door,  and 
found  him  looking  injured.  "You  haven't 
tucked  me  up ! "  he  said. 

Miss  Vesta  tucked  him  up  with  delicate 
precision,  and  drew  the  snowy  counterpane 


BROKEN  BONES  185 

into  absolute  smoothness.  "  There ! "  she  said, 
her  gentle  eyes  beaming  with  maternal  pleas 
ure.  "  Is  there  anything  else,  dear  doctor  —  I 
mean  dear  Geoffrey  ? " 

"No,  nothing  —  unless  —  I  don't  suppose 
angels  ever  kiss  people,  do  they  ? " 

Very  pink  indeed,  even  to  her  pretty  little 
ears,  Miss  Vesta  stooped  and  deposited  a  very 
small  and  very  timid  kiss  on  his  forehead; 
then  slipped  away  like  a  little  shocked  ghost, 
wondering  what  Sister  Phoebe  would  say. 


CHAPTEK  XIL 

CONVALESCENCE 

"WHERE  did  you  get  your  splints?"  asked 
Geoffrey.  "  Was  this  thing  all  arranged  be 
forehand  ?  you  confess  to  the  bandages  in  your 
trunk." 

Vesta  laughed.  "  Your  poor  cigars !  I  tum 
bled  them  out  of  their  box  with  very  little 
ceremony.  See  them,  scattered  all  over  the 
table !  I  must  put  them  tidy." 

She  moved  to  the  table,  and  began  piling 
the  cigars  in  a  hollow  square.  "A  cigar-box 
makes  excellent  splints,"  she  said;  "did  you 
ever  try  it  ? " 

But  Geoffrey  was  thinking  what  a  singu 
lar  amount  of  light  a  white  dress  seemed 

186 


CONVALESCENCE  187 

to  bring  into  a  room,  and  did  not  immediately 
reply. 

When  he  did  speak,  he  said,  "  You  watched 
me  —  I  kept  you  up  all  night.  I  ought  to  be 
shot." 

"  That  would  be  twice  as  troublesome,"  said 
Vesta,  gravely ;  "  I  can  set  an  arm,  but  I  don't 
know  anything  about  wounds,  except  theoret 
ically.  Perhaps  you  would'nt  like  theoretic 
treatment." 

"  Perhaps  not.  Was  there  —  it  seems  a  per 
fectly  absurd  question  to  ask,  but  —  well,  was 
any  one  playing  the  'cello  here  last  night? 
why  do  you  laugh  ? " 

"  Only  because  you  seem  to  have  the  'cello 
so  on  your  mind.  You  said  such  funny  things 
last  night,  while  you  were  light-headed,  you 
know." 

Geoffrey  became  conscious  of  the  roots  of 
his  hair.  "  What  did  I  say  ? "  he  asked. 

"You  seemed  to  think  that  some  one  was 


188  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

playing  the  'cello ;  or  rather,  you  fancied  there 
was  a  'cello  in  the  room,  and  it  seemed  to  be 
endowed  with  life.  You  said,  '  I  didn't  know 
that  'cellos  had  hands ! '  and  then  you  asked  if 
it  spoke  Spanish.  I  couldn't  help  laughing  a 
little  at  that,  and  you  were  quite  short  with 
me,  and  told  me  I  that  didn't  know  phlox 
from  flaxseed.  It  was  very  curious ! " 

"Must  have  been!"  said  Geoffrey,  dryly. 
"  I'm  only  thankful  —  was  that  the  worst 
thing  I  said?" 

"Wasn't  that  bad  enough?  yes,  that  was 
the  very  worst.  I  am  going  out  now,  Doctor 
Strong.  Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you  ? " 

"  Going  out ! "  repeated  Geoffrey,  in  dismay. 

"Yes.  I  have  some  errands  to  do.  What 
is  it?"  for  the  cloud  on  his  brow  was  un 
mistakable. 

"  Oh  —  nothing !  I  thought  you  were  going 
to  see  to  this  crack  in  my  skull,  but  it's  no 
matter." 


CONVALESCENCE  189 

"  It  is  hardly  two  hours  since  I  dressed  it," 
said  Vesta.  "  I  thought  you  said  it  felt  very 
comfortable." 

"Well  —  it  did;  but  it  hurts  now,  con — 
siderably.  No  matter,  though,  if  you  are  busy. 
I  dare  say  I  could  get  Pottle  to  come  in  some 
time  in  the  course  of  the  day." 

He  had  the  grace  to  be  ashamed  of  himself, 
when  Yesta  brought  basin  and  sponge,  and 
began  quietly  and  patiently  to  dress  the  in 
jured  temple. 

"  I  know  I  am  fractious,"  he  said,  plaintively. 
"  I  can't  seem  to  help  it." 

He  looked  up,  and  saw  her  clear  eyes  intent 
and  full  of  light. 

"It  is  healing  beautifully'"  she  said.  "I 
wish  you  could  see  it;  it's  a  lovely  colour 
now." 

"  It's  a  shame  to  give  you  all  this  trouble," 
said  Geoffrey,  trying  to  feel  real  contrition. 

"  Oh,  but  I  like  it ! "  he  was  cheerfully  as- 


190  GEOFFEEY  STEONG 

sured.     "  It's  delightful  to  see  a  cut  like  this." 

"  Thank  you  ! "  said  Geoffrey.  "  I  used  to 
feel  that  way  myself." 

"  And  the  callous  is  going  to  form  quickly 
in  the  arm,  I  am  sure  of  it ! "  said  Vesta,  with 
shining  eyes.  "  I  am  so  pleased  with  you, 
Doctor  Strong!  And  now  —  there!  is  that 
all  right  ?  Take  the  glass  and  see  if  you  like 
the  looks  of  it.  I  think  the  turban  effect  is 
rather  becoming.  Now  —  is  there  any  one  you 
would  like  me  to  go  and  see  while  I  am  out  ? 
Of  course  —  I  have  no  diploma,  nothing  of  the 
sort,  but  I  could  carry  out  your  orders  faith 
fully,  and  report  to  you." 

"Oh,  you  are  very  good!"  said  Geoffrey. 
"  But  —  you  would  be  gone  all  the  —  I  mean 
—  your  aunts  might  need  you,  don't  you 
think?" 

"No,  indeed!  Aunt  Phosbe  is  better  —  I 
gave  her  the  drops,  and  Aunt  Vesta  is  bathing 
her  now  with  the  lotion  —  I  can  take  the 


CONVALESCENCE  191 

afternoon  perfectly  well.  Your  case-book  ? 
this  one  ?  no,  truly,  Doctor  Strong,  it  will  be  a 
pleasure,  a  real  pleasure." 

"  You're  awfully  good ! "  said  Geoffrey,  rue 
fully. 

"It  is  the  most  unfortunate  combination  I 
ever  heard  of ! "  said  Miss  Phoebe  Blyth. 

Miss  Phoebe  was  in  bed,  too,  and  suffering 
very  considerable  discomfort.  Erysipelas  is 
not  a  thing  to  speak  lightly  of ;  and  if  it  got 
into  Miss  Phoebe's  temper  as  well  as  into  her 
eyes,  this  was  not  to  be  wondered  at. 

Miss  Yesta  murmured  some  soothing  words, 
and  bathed  the  angry  red  places  gently ;  but 
Miss  Phoebe  was  not  to  be  soothed. 

"  It  is  all  very  well  for  you,  Vesta,"  said  the 
poor  lady,  "  you  have  never  had  any  respon 
sibility;  of  course  it  is  not  to  be  supposed 
that  you  should  have,  with  what  you  have 
gone  through.  But  with  all  I  have  on  my 


192  GEOFFBEY  STEONQ 

shoulders,  to  be  laid  up  in  this  way  is— • 
really,  I  must  say ! " 

This  last  remark  was  the  sternest  censure 
that  Miss  Phoebe  was  ever  known  to  bestow 
upon  the  Orderings  of  Providence. 

"Has  Doctor  Pottle  attended  to  the  doc 
tor's  arm  this  morning?" 

This  was  the  question  Miss  Vesta  had 
been  dreading.  She  pretended  not  to  hear 
it;  but  it  was  repeated  with  incisive  severity. 

"You  are  getting  a  little  hard  of  hearing, 
Vesta.  I  asked  you,  has  Doctor  Strong's  arm 
been  attended  to  this  morning  ? " 

"  Yes !  oh,  yes,  Sister  Phoebe,  it  has.  And 
—  it  is  healing  finely,  and  so  is  his  head. 
She  says — I  mean  —  " 

"You  mean  he  says!"  said  Miss  Phrebe, 
with  a  superior  air.  "This  excitement  is  too 
much  for  you,  Vesta.  We  shall  have  you 
breaking  down  next.  I  do  not  know  that  I 
care  to  hear  precisely  what  Doctor  Pottle 


CONVALESCENCE  193 

says.  In  such  an  emergency  as  this  we  were 
forced  to  call  him  in,  but  I  have  a  poor  opin 
ion  of  his  skill,  and  none  of  his  intelligence. 
If  our  dear  Doctor  Strong  is  doing  well,  that 
is  all  I  need  to  know." 

"  Yes,  Sister  Phoebe,"  acquiesced  Miss  Vesta, 
with  silent  thanksgiving. 

"When  you  next  visit  Doctor  Strong's 
room,"  Miss  Phoebe  continued,  —  "I  regret 
that  you  should  be  obliged  to  do  so,  my 
dear  Vesta,  but  the  disparity  in  your  years 
is  so  great  as  to  obviate  any  glaring  impro 
priety,  and  besides,  there  seems  to  be  no  help 
for  it,  —  when  you  next  visit  him,  I  beg  you 
to  give  him  my  kindest  —  yes !  I  am  con 
vinced  that  there  can  be  no  —  you  may  say 
my  affectionate  regards,  Vesta.  Tell  him  that 
I  find  myself  distinctly  better  to-day,  thanks, 
no  doubt,  to  the  remedies  he  has  prescribed; 
and  that  I  trust  in  a  short  time  to  be  able  to 
give  my  personal  supervision  to  his  recovery. 


194  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

You  may  point  out  to  him  that  a  period  of 
seclusion  and  meditation,  even  when  not  un 
mixed  with  suffering,  may  often  be  productive 
of  beneficial  results,  moral  as  well  as  physical ; 
and  in  a  mind  like  his  —  hark !  what  is  that 
sound,  Vesta  ? " 

Miss  Vesta  listened.  "  I  think  —  it  is  Doc 
tor  Strong,"  she  said.  "  I  think  he  is  singing, 
Sister  Phoebe.  I  cannot  distinguish  the  words ; 
very  likely  some  hymn  his  mother  taught 
him.  Dear  lad ! " 

"  He  has  a  beautiful  spirit ! "  said  Miss 
Phoebe;  "there  are  less  signs  of  active  piety 
than  I  could  wish,  but  he  has  a  beautiful  spirit. 
Yes,  you  are  right,  it  is  a  hymn,  Vesta." 

Even  if  Miss  Vesta  had  distinguished  the 
words,  it  would  have  made  little  difference, 
since  she  did  not  understand  Italian.  For 
this  is  what  the  young  doctor  was  singing: 

"  Voi  che  sapete  che  cosa  e  1'amor, 
Donne,  vedete  s'io  i'ho  nel  cuor  I " 


CONVALESCENCE  195 

The  sisters  listened;  Miss  Phoebe  erect 
among  her  pillows,  her  nightcap  tied  in  a 
rigid  little  bow  under  her  chin;  Miss  Vesta 
sitting  beside  her,  wistful  and  anxious,  full  of 
tender  solicitude  for  sister,  friend,  niece, — 
in  fact,  for  all  her  little  world.  But  neither 
of  them  could  tell  the  young  doctor  what  he 
wanted  to  know. 

It  was  near  sunset  when  Vesta  came  again 
into  the  young  doctor's  room.  He  was  sitting 
in  the  big  armchair  by  the  window.  He  was 
cross,  and  thought  medicine  a  profession  for 
dogs. 

"  I  trust  you  have  enjoyed  your  afternoon ! " 
he  said,  morosely.  Then  he  looked  up  at  the 
radiant  face  and  happy  eyes,  and  told  himself 
that  he  was  a  squid;  cuttlefish  was  too  good 
a  name  for  him. 

Vesta  smiled  and  nodded,  a  little  out  of 
breath. 


196  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

"I  ran  up-stairs!"  she  said.  "I  didn't 
think,  and  I  just  ran.  I  am  well,  Doctor 
Strong,  do  you  realise  it  ?  Oh,  it  is  so  won 
derful  !  It  is  worth  it  all,  every  bit,  to  feel 
the  spring  coming  back.  You  told  me  it 
would,  you  know;  I  didn't  believe  you,  and 
I  hasten  to  do  homage  to  your  superior  intel 
ligence.  Hail,  Solomon!  Yes,  I  have  had  a 
most  delightful  afternoon,  and  now  you  shall 
hear  all  about  it." 

She  sat  down,  and  took  out  the  note-book. 
Geoffrey  had  been  wondering  all  the  afternoon 
what  colour  her  eyes  were,  now  that  they  had 
ceased  to  be  dark  agates.  "I  know  now!" 
he  said.  "  They  are  like  Mary  Donnelly's. 

« « Her  eyes  like  mountain  water 

Where  it's  running  o'er  a  rock.'" 

"Whose  eyes  ?"  asked  Vesta.  "Not  Luella 
Slocum's  ?  I  was  just  going  to  tell  you  about 
her." 


CONVALESCENCE  197 

"No,  not  hers.  How  is  she?  You  must 
have  had  a  sweet  time  there." 

Vesta  gave  her  head  a  backward  shake  — 
it  was  a  pretty  way  she  had  —  and  laughed. 
"  I  am  sure  I  did  her  good,"  she  said.  "  She 
was  so  angry  at  my  coming,  so  sure  I  didn't 
know  anything,  and  so  consumed  with  desire 
to  know  what  and  where  and  how  long  I 
had  studied,  and  what  my  father  was  think 
ing  of  to  allow  me,  and  what  my  mother 
would  have  said  if  she  had  lived  to  see  the 
day,  and  what  my  aunts  would  say  as  it 
was,  that  she  actually  forgot  her  tic,  poor 
soul,  and  talked  a  great  deal,  and  freed  her 
mind.  It's  a  great  thing  to  free  the  mind. 
But  she  said  I  need  not  call  again;  and  — 
I'm  afraid  I  have  got  you  into  disgrace,  too, 
for  when  I  said  that  you  would  come  as 
soon  as  you  were  able,  she  sniffed,  and  said 
she  would  let  you  know  if  she  wanted  you. 
I  am  sorry ! " 


198  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

"  Are  you  ? "  said  Geoffrey.  "  I  am  not. 
She  will  send  for  Pottle  to-morrow,  and  he 
will  suit  her  exactly.  Where  else  did  you 
go?" 

Several  cases  were  given  in  detail,  and  for 
a  time  the  talk  was  sternly  professional 
Geoffrey  found  his  questions  answered  clearly 
and  directly,  with  no  superfluous  words ; 
moreover,  there  seemed  to  be  judgment  and 
intelligence.  Well,  he  always  said  that  one 
woman  in  ten  thousand  might  — 

Coming  to  the  last  case  in  the  book, 
Vesta's  face  lightened  into  laughter. 

"Oh,  those  Binney  children!"  she  said. 
"They  were  so  funny  and  dear!  I  had  a 
delightful  time  there.  They  were  all  much 
better,  —  Paul's  fever  entirely  gone,  and  Ellie's 
throat  hardly  inflamed  at  all.  They  wanted  to 
get  up,  but  I  didn't  think  they  would  better 
before  to-morrow,  so  we  played  menagerie, 
and  had  a  great  tima" 


CONVALESCENCE  199 

"  Played  menagerie  ? " 

"  Yes.  I  made  a  hollow  square  with  the 
cribs  and  some  chairs,  and  they  were  the 
lions,  and  I  was  the  tamer.  We  played  for 
an  hour,  —  Mrs.  Binney  was  tired,  and  I 
made  her  go  and  lie  down,  —  and  then 
I  sang  them  to  sleep,  dear  little  lambs,  and 
came  away  and  left  them." 

"I  see!"  said  Geoffrey.  "That  is  what 
made  you  so  late.  Do  you  think  it's  ex 
actly  professional  to  play  menagerie  for  an 
hour  and  a  half  with  your  patients?" 

Vesta  laughed;  the  happy  sound  of  her 
laughter  fretted  his  nerves. 

"  I  suppose  that  is  the  way  you  will  prac 
tise,  when  you  have  taken  your  degree ! "  he 
said,  disagreeably. 

The  girl  flushed,  and  the  happy  light  left 
her  eyes.  "Don't  talk  of  that!"  she  said. 
"I  told  you  I  had  given  it  up  once  and  for 
all" 


200  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

"But  you  are  well  now;  and  —  I  am 
bound  to  say  —  you  seem  in  many  ways 
qualified  for  a  physician.  You  might  try 
again  when  you  are  entirely  strong." 

"  And  break  down  again  ?  thank  you.  No ; 
I  have  proved  to  myself  that  I  cannot  do 
it,  and  there  is  an  end," 

"Then  —  it's  no  business  of  mine,  of 
course  —  what  will  you  do  ? "  asked  Geof 
frey.  His  ill-temper  was  dying  out.  The 
sound  of  her  voice,  so  full,  so  even,  so 
cordial,  filled  him  like  wine.  He  wanted  her 
to  go  on  talking;  it  did  not  matter  much 
about  what. 

"What  will  you  do?"  he  repeated,  as  the 
girl  remained  silent. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know!  I  suppose  I  shall 
just  be  a  plain  woman  the  rest  of  my  life." 

"I  don't  think  plain  is  exactly  the  word!" 
said  Geoffrey. 

"You    didn't    think  'pretty*   was!"    said 


CONVALESCENCE  201 

Vesta;  and,  with  a  flash  of  laughter,  she  was 
gone. 

Geoffrey  had  not  wanted  her  to  go.  He 
had  been  alone  all  the  afternoon.  (  Ah,  dear 
Miss  Vesta !  was  it  solitude,  the  patient  hour 
you  spent  by  his  side,  reading  to  him,  chat 
ting,  trying  your  best  to  cheer  the  depression 
that  you  partly  saw,  partly  divined  ?  yes ; 
for  when  an  experiment  in  soul-chemistry 
is  going  on,  it  is  one  element,  and  one  only, 
that  can  produce  the  needed  result!)  He 
had  been  alone,  I  say,  all  the  afternoon, 
and  his  head  ached,  and  there  were  shooting 
pains  in  his  arm,  and  —  he  used  to  think 
it  would  be  so  interesting  to  break  a  bone, 
that  one  would  learn  so  much  better  in  that 
kind  of  way.  Well,  he  was  learning,  learn 
ing  no  end;  only  you  wanted  some  one  to 
talk  it  over  with.  There  was  no  fun  in 
knowing  things  if  there  was  no  one  to  tell 
about  them.  And — anyhow,  this  bandage  was 


202  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

getting  quite  dry,  or  it  would  be  soon.  There 
was  the  bowl  of  water  on  the  stand  beside 
him,  but  he  could  not  change  bandages  with 
one  hand.  He  heard  Vesta  stirring  about  in 
her  room,  the  room  next  his.  She  was  sing 
ing  softly  to  herself;  it  didn't  trouble  her 
much  that  he  was  all  alone,  and  suffering 
a  good  deaL  She  had  a  cold  nature.  Absurd 
for  a  person  to  be  singing  to  chairs  and  tables, 
when  other  people  — 

He  coughed;  coughed  again;  sighed  long 
and  audibly.  The  soft  singing  stopped;  was 
she  — 

No !  it  went  on  again.  He  knew  the  tune, 
but  he  could  not  hear  the  words.  There  was 
nothing  so  exasperating  as  not  to  be  able  to 
place  a  song. — 

Crash!  something  shivered  on  the  floor. 
Vesta  came  running,  the  song  still  on  her 
lips.  Her  patient  was  flushed,  and  looked 
studiously  out  of  the  window. 


CONVALESCENCE  203 

"  What  is  it  ?  Oh,  the  bowl !  I  am  so 
sorry !  How  did  it  happen  ? " 

"  It  —  fell  down ! "  said  Geoffrey. 

Vesta  was  on  her  knees,  picking  up  the 
pieces,  sopping  the  spilt  water  with  a  towel. 
He  regarded  her  with  remorseful  triumph. 

"You  were  singing!"  he  said,  at  length. 

"Was  I?  did  I  disturb  you?  I  won't — " 

"  No !  I  don't  mean  that.  I  wanted  to 
hear  the  words.  I  —  I  threw  the  bowl  down 
on  purpose." 

Vesta  looked  up  in  utter  amazement ; 
meeting  the  young  doctor's  eyes,  something 
in  them  brought  the  lovely  colour  flooding 
over  her  face  and  neck. 

"  That  was  childish ! "  she  said,  quietly, 
and  went  on  picking  up  the  pieces.  "It 
was  a  valuable  bowl." 

"I  am  —  feverish!"  said  Geoffrey.  "This 
bandage  is  getting  dry,  and  I  am  all  prickles." 

Vesta  hesitated  a  moment;  then  she  laid 


204  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

her  hand  on  his  forehead.  "You  have  no 
fever ! "  she  said.  "  You  are  flushed  and 
restless,  but  —  Doctor  Strong,  this  is  con 
valescence  ! " 

A 

"  Is  that  what  you  call  it  ? "  eaid  Geoffrey. 


CHAPTER  XIIL 

RECOVEKY 

'  real  smart,  be  ye?"  asked  Mr. 
Ithuriel  Butters.  "Wai,  I'm  pleased  to  hear 
it." 

Mr.  Butters  sat  in  the  young  doctor's 
second  armchair,  and  looked  at  him  with 
friendly  eyes.  His  broad  back  was  turned  to 
the  window,  but  Geoffrey  faced  it,  and  the 
light  showed  his  face  pale,  indeed,  but  full  of 
returning  health  and  life ;  his  arm  was  still  in 
a  sling,  but  his  movements  otherwise  were  free 
and  unrestrained. 

"  You're  lookin'  fust-rate,"  said  Mr.  Butters. 
"  Some  different  from  the  last  time  I  see  ye." 

"  I  wonder  what  would  have  become  of  me 

206 


206  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

if  you  had  not  happened  along  just  then,  Mr. 
Butters,"  said  Geoffrey.  "  I  think  I  owe  you  a 
great  deal  more  than  you  are  willing  to 
acknowledge." 

"  Nothin'  at  all ;  nothin'  at  all ! "  said  the  old 
man,  briskly.  "  I  h'isted  ye  up  out  the  ro'd, 
that  was  all ;  I  sh'd  have  had  to  h'ist  jest  the 
same  if  ye'd  be'n  a  critter  or  a  lawg,  takin'  up 
the  hull  ro'd  the  way  ye  did." 

"And  how  about  bringing  me  home,  three 
miles  out  of  your  way,  and  carrying  me  up 
stairs,  and  all  that  ?  I  suppose  you  would  have 
done  all  that  for  a  critter,  eh  ? " 

"Wai  —  depends  upon  the  value  of  the 
critter ! "  said  Mr.  Butters,  with  a  twinkle.  "  I 
never  kep'  none  of  mine  up-stairs,  but  there's 
no  knowin'  these  days  of  fancy  stock.  No, 
young  man !  if  there's  anybody  for  you  to 
thank,  it's  that  young  woman.  Now  there's 
a  gal  —  what's  her  name  ?  I  didn't  gather  it 
that  day." 


RECOVERY  207 

«  Vesta  —  Miss  Vesta  Blyth." 

"  I  want  to  know !  my  fust  wife's  name  was 
Vesty;  Vesty  Barlow  she  was;  yes,  sir.  I 
do'no'  but  I  liked  her  best  of  any  of  'em.  Not 
but  what  I've  had  good  ones  since,  but  'twas 
different  then,  seems'  though.  She  was  the 
ch'ice  of  my  youth,  ye  see.  Yes,  sir ;  Vesty  is 
a  good  name,  and  that's  a  good  gal,  if  I  know 
anything  about  gals.  She's  no  kin  to  you,  she 
said." 

"  No ;  none  whatever." 

"Nor  yet  you  ain't  keepin'  company  with 
her?" 

"  No-o ! "  cried  Geoffrey,  wincing. 

"  Ain't  you  asked  her  ? " 

"No!  please  don't  —  " 

"Why  not?"  demanded  Mr.  Butters,  with 
ample  severity. 

Geoffrey  tried  to  laugh,  and  failed.  "I  —  I 
can't  talk  about  these  things,  Mr.  Butters." 

"  Don't  you  want  her  ? "  the  old  man  went 


208  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

on,  pitilessly.  Geoffrey  looked  up  angrily; 
looked  up,  and  met  a  look  so  kind  and  true 
and  simple,  that  his  anger  died,  still-born. 

"Yes!"  he  said.  "God  knows  I  do.  But 
you  are  wholly  mistaken  in  thinking  —  that  is 
—  she  wouldn't  have  me." 

"  I  expect  she  would ! "  said  Ithuriel  Butters. 
"  I  expect  that  is  jest  what  she  would  have.  I 
see  her  when  you  was  layin'  there,  all  stove 
up ;  you  might  have  be'n  barrel-staves,  the  way 
you  looked.  I  see  her  face,  and  I  don't  need 
to  see  no  more." 

Geoffrey  tried  to  say  something  about  kind 
ness  and  womanly  pity,  but  the  strong  old 
voice  bore  him  down. 

"  I  know  what  pity  looks  like,  and  I  know 
the  other  thing.  She's  no  soft-heart  to  squinch 
at  the  sight  of  blood,  and  that  sort  of  foolery. 
Tell  ye,  she  was  jest  as  quiet  and  cool  as  if 
'twas  a  church  sociable,  and  she  set  that  bone 
as  easy  and  chirk  as  my  woman  would  take  a 


RECOVERY  209 

pie  out  the  oven;  but  when  she  had  you  all 
piecened  up,  and  stood  and  looked  at  you  — 
wal,  there ! " 

"  Don't !  I  cannot  let  you ! "  cried  Geoffrey. 
His  voice  was  full  of  distress ;  but  was  it  the 
western  sun  that  made  his  face  so  bright  ? 

"Wal,  there's  all  kinds  of  fools,"  said  Mr. 
Butters.  "  Got  the  teethache  ? " 

"  Toothache  ?  no !  why  ?  " 

"  Thought  you  hollered  as  if  ye  had.  How 
would  you  go  to  work  to  cure  the  teethache 
now,  s'posin'  you  had  it  ? " 

"  I  should  go  to  a  dentist,  and  let  him  cure 
it  for  me." 

"  S'posin'  you  lived  ten  mile  from  a  dentist, 
young  feller  ?  you're  too  used  to  settin'  in  the 
middle  of  creation  and  jerkin'  the  reins  for  the 
hoss  to  go.  Jonas  E.  Homer  had  the  teeth- 
ache  once,  bad." 

He  paused. 

"Well,"  said  the  young  doctor,  "who  was 


210  GEOFFEEY  STRONG 

Jonas  E.  Homer,  and  how  did  he  cure  his 
toothache  ? " 

"  Jonas  Elimelech  was  his  full  name,"  said 
Mr.  Butters,  settling  himself  comfortably  in 
his  chair.  "  He's  neighbour  to  me,  about  five 
miles  out  on  the  Buffy  Landin'  ro'd.  Yes,  he 
had  the  teethache  bad.  Wife  wanted  him  to 
go  and  have  'em  hauled,  but  he  said  he 
wouldn't  have  no  feller  goin'  fishin'  in  his 
mouth.  No,  sir !  he  went  and  he  bored  a  hole 
in  the  northeast  side  of  a  beech-tree,  and  put 
in  a  hair  of  a  yaller  dawg,  and  then  plugged 
up  the  hole  with  a  pine  plug.  That  was  ten 
years  ago,  and  he's  never  had  the  teethache 
sence.  He  told  me  that  himself." 

"  It's  a  good  story,"  said  the  young  doctor. 
"  Do  you  believe  it,  Mr.  Butters  ? " 

"Wai,  I  do'no'  as  I  exactly  believe  it:  I 
was  sort  of  illustratin'  the  different  kinds  of 
fools  there  was  in  the  world,  that's  all." 

They   were   silent.     The   sun   went   down, 


RECOVERY  211 

but  the  light   stayed   in  the   young   doctor's 
face. 

There  was  a  commotion  in  the  room  below. 
Voices  were  raised,  feminine  voices,  shrill  with 
excitement.  Then  came  a  bustle  on  the  stairs, 
and  the  sound  of  feet ;  then  one  voice,  breath 
less  but  decided. 

"I  tell  ye,  I  know  the  way.  There's  no 
need  to  show  me,  and  I  won't  have  it.  I 
haven't  been  up  these  stairs  for  near  seventy 
years,  Phoabe,  since  the  day  of  your  caudle- 
party,  but  I  know  the  way  as  well  as  you  do, 
and  I'll  thank  you  to  stay  where  you  are." 

The  next  moment  the  door  opened,  and 
Mrs.  Tree  stood  on  the  threshold,  panting  and 
triumphant.  Her  black  eyes  twinkled  with 
affection  and  malice.  "  Well,  young  sir ! "  she 
said,  as  Geoffrey  ran  to  give  her  his  sound 
arm,  and  led  her  in,  and  placed  her  in  the 
seat  of  honour.  "  Fine  doings  since  I  last  saw 


212  GEOFFEEY  STRONG 

you  !  Humph  !  you  look  pretty  well,  consider 
ing  all  Who's  this  ?  Ithuriel  Butters !  How 
do  you  do,  Ithuriel?  I  haven't  seen  you  for 
forty  years,  but  I  should  know  you  in  the 
Fiji  Islands." 

"I  should  know  you,  too,  anywhere,  Mis' 
Tree ! "  responded  Mr.  Butters,  heartily.  "  I'm 
rejoicin'  glad  to  see  ye." 

"You  wear  well,  Ithuriel,"  said  Mrs.  Tree, 
kindly.  "If  you  would  cut  all  that  mess  of 
hair  and  beard,  you  would  be  a  good-looking 
man  still;  but  I  didn't  come  here  to  talk  to 
you." 

She  turned  to  Geoffrey  in  some  excitement. 
"  I'll  speak  right  out,"  she  said.  "  Now's  now, 
and  next  time's  never.  I've  let  the  cat  out 
of  the  bag.  Phoebe  has  found  out  about  little 
Vesta's  setting  your  arm  and  all,  and  she's 
proper  mad.  Says  she'll  send  the  child  home 
to-morrow  for  good  and  alL  She's  getting  on 
her  shoes  this  minute;  I  never  could  abide 


RECOVERY  213 

those  morocco  shoes.  She'll  be  up  here  in  no 
time.  I  thought  I'd  come  up  first  and  tell  you." 

She  looked  eagerly  at  the  young  doctor; 
but  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  window,  and 
he  scarcely  seemed  to  hear  her.  Following 
his  gaze,  she  saw  a  white  dress  glimmering 
against  the  soft  dusk  of  the  garden  shrubs. 

The  young  doctor  rose  abruptly;  took  one 
step ;  paused,  and  turned  to  his  guest  of  ninety 
years  with  a  little  passionate  gesture  of  appeal 
"I  —  cannot  leave  you,"  he  said;  "unless  — 
just  one  moment  —  " 

"My  goodness  gracious  me!"  cried  Mrs. 
Tree.  "Go  this  minute,  child;  run,  do  you 
hear  ?  I'll  take  care  of  Ithuriel  Butters.  He 
was  in  my  Sunday-school  class,  though  he's 
only  five  years  younger  than  me.  Take  care 
and  don't  fall!" 

The  last  words  were  uttered  in  a  small 
shriek,  for  apparently  there  had  been  but  one 
step  to  the  staircase. 


214  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

Breathless,  the  old  woman  turned  and  faced 
the  old  man.  "Have  you  got  any  bumble 
bees  in  your  pocket  this  time,  Ithuriel  ? "  she 
asked. 

"  No,'m,"  said  Ithuriel,  soberly.  Then  they 
both  stared  out  of  the  window  with  eyes 
that  strove  to  be  as  young  as  they  were 
eager. 

"  There  he  comes,  full  chisel ! "  cried  Ithuriel 
Butters.  "  She  don't  see  him.  He's  hollerin' 
to  her.  She's  turned  round.  I  tell  ye  —  he's 
grabbed  holt  of  her  hand !  he's  grabbed  holt 
of  both  her  hands !  he's  —  " 

Who  says  that  heroism  dies  with  youth  ? 
Marcia  Tree  raised  her  little  mitted  hand,  and 
pulled  down  the  blind. 

"It's  no  business  of  yours  or  mine  what 
he's  doing,  Ithuriel  Butters!"  she  said,  with 
dignity. 

Then  she  began  to  tremble.  "  Seventy  years 
ago,"  she  said,  "Ira  Tree  proposed  to  me  in 


"There  lie  comes,  full  chisel  !  "  cried  Ithuriel  Butters. 


EECOVEEY  215 

that  very  garden,  under  that  very  syringa-tree. 
I've  been  a  widow  fifty  years,  Ithuriel,  and  it 
seems  like  yesterday."  And  a  dry  sob  clicked 
in  her  throat. 

"I've  buried  two  good  wives,"  said  Mr. 
Butters,  "and  my  present  one  seems  to  be 
failin'  up  some.  I  hope  she'll  live  now,  I 
reelly  do." 

"Vesta!"  Miss  Phoebe's  voice  rang  sharp 
and  shrill  through  the  house.  Miss  Vesta 
started.  She  was  at  her  evening  post  in  the 
upper  hall.  The  lamp  was  lighted,  the  prayer 
had  been  said. 

"Dear  Lord,  I  beseech  thee,  protect  all 
souls  at  sea  this  night;  for  Jesus  Christ's 
sake.  Amen ! " 

But  Miss  Vesta  was  not  watching  the  sea 
this  time.  Her  eyes,  too,  were  bent  down 
upon  the  twilight  garden.  The  lamplight 
fell  softly  there,  and  threw  into  relief  the 


216  GEOFFREY  STRONG 

two  figures  pacing  up  and  down,  hand  in  hand, 
heart  in  heart.  Miss  Vesta  could  not  hear, 
and  would  not  if  she  could  have  heard,  the 
words  her  children  were  saying ;  her  heart 
was  lifted  as  high  as  heaven,  in  peace  and 
joy  and  thankfulness,  and  the  words  that 
sounded  in  her  ear  were  spoken  by  a  voice 
long  silent  in  death. 

"Vesta!" 

Miss  Phosbe's  voice  rang  sharp  and  shrill 
through  the  silent  house.  Instinct  and  habit 
answered  the  call  at  once.  "  Yes,  Sister 
Phcebe!" 

"Stay  where  you  are!  I  am  coming  to 
you.  I  have  discovered  —  " 

The  figures  below  paused  full  in  the  lamp 
light.  Two  faces  shone  out,  one  all  on  fire 
with  joy  and  wonder,  the  other  sweet  and 
white  as  the  white  flower  at  her  breast. 

Miss  Phoabe's  morocco  shoes  creaked  around 
the  corner  of  the  passage. 


RECOVERY  217 

"  Good  Lord,  forgive  me,  and  save  all  souls 
at  sea  just  the  same ! "  said  Miss  Vesta ;  and 
she  blew  out  the  lamp. 


THE    END. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

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